Going off-menu

It's over two weeks since I've been to Beretta, and I'm getting the shakes. I meet there last night for drinks and I find the menu lacking the cocktail I most want: the Rangoon Gin Cobbler. What to do, I ask Eric Johnson, my man behind the stick. Relax, says he, mixing me one, we change the menu all the time depending on the ingredients in stock. Fine, I go, and what else don't I see here? He says we were recently between piscos, so the menu isn't packing Punch, but I'd whip one out for you if you wanted. I say no thanks, buddy, but you've inspired me to keep this train off the tracks. I ask him for a Ti Punch since they've got rhum agricole laying around like bums in the park, and he makes me one like it's nothing. Thanks for keeping me steady, I say, and blow out of there until tomorrow.