Tag Archives: drinking

Long ago and far away…

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Anyone who knew me in high school will probably attest that I wasn’t one of the kids that was going to show up at a party. Frankly, I’m still not one of the kids who shows up at parties. As a general rule lots of people and lots of noise makes me nervous and jerky. As usual, though, that’s not my point. My point (this time) is that I was a late sacwbloomer in the world of alcohol. I don’t think I had my first “serious” drink until I was 18 or 19. At that point my illicit underage drinking budget mostly allowed for such libations as “Mad Dog” 20/20, Milwaukee’s Best, Red Dog, and Honey Brown if it was a McPayday.

That all changed late in the summer of 1997. That’s when I met Sam Adams Cherry Wheat for the first time and realized that beer didn’t have to taste like ass. Unfortunately, you do have to pay a premium for non-skunky beer, but that summer opened my eyes to the idea that tasty adult beverages could be about more than drinking until you fall down. Sure, I still managed to do plenty of that during the last three years of my academic career (Hello quarts at Hi-Way, dime drafts at Repub, and the serve-all-comers dive in the basement of the Gunter Hotel), but the seed was planted.

My palate has widened considerably from it’s humble beginnings with Sam’s Cherry Wheat, but on days like today, when the humidity is up and sitting out in sun is the order of the day, it’s still my go to beverage of choice. There are surely better cherry brewed beers out there these days, but none of them will ever take the place of beer I fell in love with long ago and far away.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

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1. Kids that drink hand sanitizer. What’s wrong with kids today? Back when I was coming up, we had the good sense to respect ourselves and steal miniatures of Seagram’s 7 and Canadian Club that our parents forgot were packed away in the back of the basement. In a pinch we’d even go so far as to make friends with someone older and let them hook us up. We were practitioners of creative acquisition, by God. It’s time someone steps in and teaches these youngsters that life is just too damned short to drink bad alcohol.

2. America’s puritanical streak. The Secret Service really stepped in it a few weeks back, make no mistake about it. I think they embarrassed themselves badly. Unlike the morality crusaders out there, though, I don’t think their embarrassment had anything to do with consorting with hookers. What happens between two consenting adults doesn’t mean a hill of beans to me. If you want to gig these guys over something, how about trying to flash their badge and use their position to get out of paying the bill? If two people want to trade money for sex, that’s between him, her, and the laws of that particular jurisdiction. I’ve never understood why I should care as long as its legitimately consensual. Sadly, America’s puritanical streak is once again showing itself to be alive and well at the mere thought that someone might have fornicated. If you want to get riled up, be mad because one of the agents was a cheap bastard, not because people had sex. It’s like we’ve got the national mentality of a room full of fifth graders.

3. Information Dominance. Every time I see that phrase written somewhere, I’m reminded of how many times a day my computer freezes, loses files, can’t connect to the printer, or thinks the internet doesn’t exist. Information dominance? Meh. I’d settle for desktop mediocrity.

Running a tab…

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Our class reunion this past weekend took place in the firehall in my hometown. Conveniently enough, there is a bar attached with a little pass-through window for ordering drinks. At the beginning of the evening, during the scheduled “social hour,” drinks were easy enough to get and a domestic bottle of beer cost the whopping sum of $1.25. As the night went on, I noticed the price of the same bottle of domestic beer fluctuated between that same $1.25 and $2.00. The deciding factor, apparently, was the barmaid sticking her hand in the tip jar and deciding if it was sufficiently full. WTF? How is that any way to run a business, yo?

On a related note, at just past 11:00 that evening, I discovered I had run clean through the small bankroll I was carrying around in my wallet. To be fair, I should mention that I very rarely carry more than five or ten dollars in my wallet. Cash is just not something I really need in my every day life… The gas pump takes my debit card. Starbucks takes my debit card. Metro takes my credit card. Even the damn taxies take credit. I actually can’t remember the last time I needed real American greenbacks to make a transaction at any place of business.

Knowing that I was crippling depleted of cold, hard cash, I walked in a more or less straight line up to the little order/pass through window with my trusty debit card in hand and asked to open a tab for the remainder of the evening. The very same barmaid who determined the price of bottled beer by coping a feel in the tip jar looked me over carefully for several seconds, said no, turned on her heel, and walked away, leaving me sans beverage and with, I’m sure, a stunned look on my face. If it wasn’t for the kind generosity of a friend, I would have remained sans beverage for the balance of the evening. I’m reasonably sure that I didn’t constitute a flight risk at that point, as any attempt at absconding on my tab would have likely resulted in my falling flat on my face. Besides the point that the barmaid would have been holding my freaking ATM card. Exactly how bloody far am I going to get without that lovely little piece of magnetized plastic anyway?

I know, I know. I could have gone to an ATM and retrieved the requisite cash to pay said barmaid for my tasty beverages, but for those of you who know the no-stoplight-town of which I speak, you will recognize that the nearest ATM at 11:00 is at least five miles in either direction. Driving 5 miles on twisty country roads was, quite simply, out of the question by that point.