(I write for Bruins Nation, and I don't want to bring up bad memories, but I thought you Hawkeyes would understand and appreciate this)
"I brought the beer!"
Oh no. I froze with dread.
I love beer. I really do. Over the years, my appreciation and reverence for beer has only increased. I don't drink as much as I did back at U.C.L.A. I maybe have a single beer 2 or 3 times a week nowadays, but I actually enjoy it more now than back in college. As I've gotten older, I have come to really study and consider and appreciate great beer, similar to how a wine connoisseur will appreciate and study fine wine. Some of my best memories from college were related to beers with friends and great times, and it has quite a history at my school. As such, beer has always held a special place in life, and I always want to have the very best beer I can. I don't insist on having the single best beer in the world every time, but I think it's reasonable to expect that my beer always be good.
But now I was panicked, because the fat stupid guy that no one wants around, but who doesn't ever go away, brought the beer. Forget something crucial like beer, I don't trust the guy to even bring useable napkins anymore. This is the guy who brought 80 beers to a party for 100 and asked "What's wrong with the beer?" This is the guy who took some old skunky beer and poured it in a new glass and put an umbrella in it and called it great. It's just as bad that our host keeps letting this guy do the shopping, as it's pretty clear he doesn't give a crap about the quality of the party himself since he doesn't even show up anyway. Personally, we'd all be better off if both the host and the fat guy never be involved anymore. We'd have fun times again.
But now I was stuck. If I wanted to stay and enjoy the party and share the experience and memories with all of my great friends, I was stuck with what the fat guy bought. The alternative was just to walk away, and it couldn't come to that, could it? Well, not yet, anyway.
"Ok", I said, with an impossible glimmer of hope surrounded by doom. "Let's see what you brought." He opened the bag.
Holy crap! This? This is what he brought? My worst fears were confirmed. The beer was disgusting. What a letdown. But we should have known.
We gave that fat guy tons of money to shop with. He could have gotten pretty much anything at all. He could have brought some Russian River Pliny The Elder, or Urquell Kvasnicovy, or even an Alaskan Smoked Porter if we wanted to get creative. Sure, it might be a bit harder to find those beers, but everyone knows they are out there, so you simply need to have a plan ahead of time how to get them, and then go do it. I heard he even had Sam Adams Double Bock in the bag and then inexplicably tried to buy it at half price and the vendor laughed in his face. Now we're all screwed. This party deserved a good beer!
This stuff the fat guy brought left a terrible taste in my mouth. It was like something had fouled the beer long ago, but no one took any steps to fix it and simply assumed the bad taste would just be forgotten or ignored. There's a reason that no one in Iowa drinks this beer. It may have started out ok once but it soon turned sour and it made them sick in the end. Our friends at Black Heart Gold Pants won't even mention it by name anymore. And sure some people in New Mexico liked it, but frankly they're lucky they have beer at all, and they're always at home by 9 while the party goes until midnight anyways. But to make it even worse, I can't believe how much the fat guy paid for this beer! I'd understand investing in one of the best beers out there, but he paid that much for this? He could have paid half of what he spent and gotten the same crappy product, or even a less distasteful equivalent. And with the amount he paid, there's no way we can pour this out and buy new beer anytime soon. So now, unbelievably, we're stuck with this crappy, bitter, sour, immoral, arrogant, entitled, offensive, underperforming beer.
Sigh. I guess this is what we'll be drinking for a while, but the party doesn't look like it's going to be much fun. Why didn't the fat guy simply check with the Hawkeyes before he went to the store and brought us this?
Man, what I'd give for a Coors Light right now.
(disclaimer: this was satire with no offense intended toward Renegade Brewing Company in Denver and their outstanding products, including this brand which wasn't nearly as bad as [REDACTED]. HT to you Hawkeyes at BHGP for a great blog and community. Bottoms up?)