"What am I going to do?" Quark asked, halfway between a mutter and a whine. He was fervently scrubbing the bar, despite there being no mess in need of cleaning.
Morn casually lifted his glass so Quark wouldn't knock it over.
"I've tried everything. Klingon blood pies, Bajoran jumja sticks, Vulcan pon farr tonics, even a rare vintage of Romulan ale. Nothing tickles her fancy. She's harder to please than a Starfleet engineer in a Jefferies tube!"
Morn shook his head sympathetically.
"I even tried to mix her a signature cocktail, something exciting, unique! But she just gave me that look, you know, that 'you must be joking' look."
Morn smirked.
"It's not funny, Morn. She paid good latinum for a memorable drink, and I can't deliver." He sighed and reached under the bar for a bottle of blue-green liquid, refilling Morn's glass.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Well, I'm not. I can't afford to lose customers over a drink. My reputation is at stake."
Morn gestured towards the replicator.
"Oh, I've tried everything in that thing, and she's not impressed. It's like she can tell when it's not the real deal."
Morn looked around for a moment then tilted his head, offering another suggestion.
"Sure, Morn, just suggest the Andorian equivalent of a root beer float. That's sure to win her over. Honestly, I don't know what she's looking for."
Morn shrugged while Quark brooded.
Lines of contemplation settled into Quark's face. Suddenly, he snapped out of his funk. "Wait a minute," he said, a hopeful twinkle returning to his eyes. "Maybe that's just it."
Morn leaned on the bar, curious.
"I've been overthinking this. I've been trying so hard to cater to someone with refined taste, but that's the key. We're dealing with someone who has no taste. Morn, you're a genius!" Quark darted to the end of the bar and disappeared beneath the counter. He emerged a moment later triumphantly holding a glass bottle with a dark fizzy liquid inside. "Root beer," Quark breathed with amazement. "Perfectly disgusting."
Quark marched his way back over to the table, a bounce in his step. Morn shook his head and refilled his glass from the unattended bottle of blue-green liquid.