8% ABV from a can
“Are you gonna blog about this?”
Mid-gulp I turned around. She was much better looking than I would have guessed regarding the unusual circumstances. Thus, she had to be crazy.
Last week a random girl A___ had sent me an e-mail telling me how much she liked an entry I had written about a certain beer she liked. She also noted how much she liked the bar where I mentioned getting the beer. I told her I likewise liked that bar. She thought we should like it together. I quickly agreed to meet her for a drink.
“You’re not even gonna ask me what I look like?”
True, perhaps I had been too overzealous. Damn. But I didn’t care if she was 70 years old and ugly as Joy Behar, I had done something remarkable in only four easy steps:
1. Drink a beer.
2. Write an article about said beer.
3. Woman reads said article about said beer.
4. Now said woman wants to sleep with said me.
I wish life were always so simple. However, now A___ refused to tell me or show me what she looked like pre-date. She claimed it didn’t matter, that I shouldn’t be concerned, because there was no doubt I would “love her.” I told her what George Bernard Shaw said:
“Love is a gross exagageration of the difference between one person and everybody else.”
So, yeah, I didn’t know what she was gonna look like and now I was a tad nervous. What kind of woman could read my vulgar missives and think me a good catch? Think they absolutely had to meet me?! Actually, I imagine most, I am indeed pretty awesome and my writings don’t even tell half the story.
Nevertheless, I got to the bar early to make sure my beer goggles were securely in place before A___ arrived. It didn’t matter though, she was surprisingly stunning. And she quickly wanted to buckle down and get some beer-drinking done. But first…
“Are you gonna blog about this?”
People always ask me that question nowadays when we’re in the midst of something. Some activity. Having some shits and giggles. And there’s no good answer.
I typically reply, “Well, yes, if something interesting happens.”
That’s not a great answer, though it is true. Paradoxically, the people I’m with both want to and don’t want to be blogged about.
They want to because it’s validation. It’s validation that they were a part of a good, memorable time; validation that they are a good, memorable person. At least that’s what they think, though it’s not exactly how I feel. Many of the best times of my life are simply not interesting enough to an outside reader to necessitate writing about.
However, these same people don’t want to be blogged about because…well, I’m not actually sure why. Do they think that simply being a part of my blog will sully their sterling reputations? That it would be an event they will never be able to recover from? Like appearing in a “Girls Gone Wild” video or something? I’m still unclear about the line of thought. Especially considering me (and portly Kansans) are pretty much the only people I mock, defame, and libel in my writings.
I explained this all to her and she immediately took it as a challenge. She had to make the evening interesting enough to get written up. Cool with me. Little did she know, though, that no matter how mundane the occasion, I was 100% going to write about my first date with a Vice Blog reader. If we had an fun, interesting time, well all the better.
A___ was from near Boulder, Colorado originally and she seemed to know her beer. She recommended Old Chub from the Oskar Blues Brewery. I had never tried it before but I had certainly heard quite a bit about Oskar Blues. Mainly because they’re the only craft brewery in America that cans their beers.
Yes. They can their beers. A highly regarded beer from a can?! My interest was aroused but I was also quite leery.
I shouldn’t have been.
Old Chub has a thick smell, kinda like soy sauce though not unpleasant. Tastes of caramel, chocolate, and pronounced smoked malt. Very nice flavor and not what I expected. Kinda tastes like a dopplebock actually. It also went down a lot smoother than I thought nor was it as filling as I figured it would be.
However, it is perhaps a little boring. I would have it again though and am intrigued to try more Oskar Blues brews.
As we tippled our Old Chubs, A___ wouldn’t stop talking about…well, me. Specifically my writing. No matter how I tried to steer the conversation–toward the Olympics, toward other beers on the menu, toward last week’s awesome “Mad Men” episode, even toward the humor in watching the fat gal at the end of the bar eating an entire platter of nachos grande by herself–she kept coming back to me and my writing. Discussing her favorite posts and mentioning many of her favorite lines and views espoused by your humble author.
Did this get annoying after a while?
Fu-uck no. I loved it. I mean, I am a deep-seated narcissist. Incurvatus in se ipsum.
So no A___, you didn’t do anything quite interesting enough to make me want to write about it, but you did make me realize who the perfect kinda girl is for me:
A member of my own fan club.
[To join the fan club please write me at theviceblog [at] gmail.com!!!!]