Friday, November 07, 2008

The "Out of that Beer" Incident

Greetings Readers

So last night there was a Bronco Game on a Thursday night and I got invited to go out after work and have a drink with them. I was debating on going to have a drink, but I thought that this was a first time that I got invited to go with this particular group.

The place that the gathering was going to be at was just down the road from where we work, which was on the way home for me. Yet, I did not want to show up in my biking gear, which is now consists of my jacket, stocking cap, gloves, a couple of bandannas and a back pack. Too much stuff to stop by with to have a drink with.

I asked another friend if they were going to get a drink after work. Yes. Cool, there was my ride to the place and then I could take RTD home. I have no problem leaving my bike and gear at work. After all it is not the first time that I have left my bike at work. And I have to mention that the area that I keep my bike in is patrolled and security cameras are placed in the area.

And if needed, I could always put my bike in my area where I work. That would not be a problem either.

We get to the place and meet up with the others. Time to order a beer. For me that was going to be decision. After all I was with a new group of friends, which I have not drank with and I wanted to show to them that I do not order whatever is on happy hour, special or draft. I wanted to show them that I love my beer and that I have “taste.”

What I did not expect was that they already knew this. Fuck me. So much for being discreet in a manner of speaking. Hah hah the joke is on me.

I spent about 5 minutes or so looking through the drink menu. Finally I decided on Odell’s Wheat Beer. The waitress comes by and sees that I made my decision and she ID’s me. Woo hoo. The third time that I have been carded since my birthday. She goes off and I turn my attention to my friends who are in conversation.

I would have to say about 3 to 5 minutes pass when the waitress comes by and tells me that they are out of that beer. Fuck me. My friends laugh and smile and say something to the effect that this could only happen to you. Fuck me. I really spent time trying to figure out what beer I was going to have first and then come to find out they are out of that particular beer.

Let me tell you Readers, only this kind of shit can happen to me. Really. My friends start asking what I want and start naming beers, but I was ignoring them. I was a bit mad for not getting the beer I wanted. Eventually, I chose a black ale. The waitress says that it is in a bottle and will cost more. I look at her and say “and?” I was offended that she thought that perhaps I could not afford that beer. Not all of us beer drinkers want more for our money. I want a taste I know and I have no fucking problem spending the “extra” money for a beer I like. After all I spend the extra money for hard alcohol.

I do not want Coors, Bud or whatever cheap beer on draft they might have. Yet, there was Guinness, but I did not want that as my first beer. I just did not.

And there you have it – my Readers, I seem to draw “situations.”

Until the next time

Daryl Charley
The Fallen Athlete

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