devoursjohnlock:

“Near this was a square brick building called the Aquarium, and serving, as the name implies, as a place of seclusion for habitual drunkards”

—

Arthur Conan Doyle, The Narrative of John Smith (1883)

“There’s
clearly no one new in your life, otherwise you wouldn’t be spending your Friday
nights in an aquarium. That probably accounts for the drink problem, too—the
slight tremor in your hand, the red wine stain ghosting
your top lip.” (The Six Thatchers)