I’m a bit of a beer snob.
First, let me tell you about the first time I got drunk.
It was two or three days before my 21st birthday. I’d had a sip or two of beer before (er, in the months preceeding my b-day), but I’d never really acquired a taste for the stuff before. A couple guys from work took me out for a beer after that closing shift – I think it was a bar named “Michael’s” in the King’s Contrivance village center in Columbia.
I sat next to my co-worker Mike at the bar. He ordered a Bass Ale for himself. “What do you want?” the barkeep asked me. “What he’s having,” I said.
I drank a tall frost glass of Bass. And with Mike, Mike’s wife Dawn, and another co-worker, Adam, we went bar hopping. At a bar in Wilde Lake, I was handed a shooter — Mike and Adam assured me they were both doing shots, too. I found out later they had coke in their glasses. I threw that shot back – and WOW. A few minutes later, in the bathroom, I observed to Adam, “Is the floor supposed to move like that?”
Since then – six years ago – I’ve been a snob for dark, British beers. Bass, Harp, y’know. Anyway, tomorrow night I’m having some co-workers over to watch “Shaun of the Dead.” I decided to do a beer run since I want to be a good host. I bought some Corona, and some Harp, and I bought a six-pack of BudIce since I know some of the younger drinkers like that crap.
Well, tonight, I got home, reached in the fridge, grabbed a bottle, popped the cap and chugged.
Hmmm, I thought. That doesn’t taste like Bass …
BUD ICE? I’m drinking BUD ICE?
I don’t know what shocks me more. That I’m drinking Bud Ice … or that I actually like it.