We keep all these delectable treats in what is commonly referred to as the "Beer Cave". Not that there's anything particularly cavernous about it, but more so that it shares the same temperature as a majority of caves I guess? Who knows? (yeah I know, spelunkers...smart asses.) Anyway, I spend a lot of time in there trying keeping up with all the hobos ravaging the 40s selection (this keeps me pretty busy). So I generally field a myriad of queries and quips while stocking all legal beverages such as, "How much does this 6-pack of Parrot Bay cheer beer cost?", "Where's the Amber Bock?", or, my personal favorite, "Man, it's fuckin cold in here." To which it takes every reasonable bone in my body to not reply with, "Fuck yeah it is, but you should go see how fuckin hot it is in the "Beer Sauna" in the back!", or, "That 18" lift kit on your '82 F-150 makes you look like even more of a redneck than your 8" long mullet you have going on back there! What?! We're not playing a game of State The Obvious? Fuck ME!" But it was up until recently that anyone had asked for my advice on which would be the best selection from our diverse line of Arbor Mist wine products.
The guy comes in with a little pep in his step. Really having a good day, probably a big date later on in the evening and he wants to show up to the spot lookin' extra fly. He makes a few laps around the Cave and comes back to the Arbor Mist. He then proceeds to pick up every bottle of wine and inspect it quite discerningly. The following conversation went something like this.
"Yo man, which one of these bottles would you recommend?"
"Well dude, I don't really drink this stuff. It's pure gasoline, and I'd rather singe off my ball-hairs with a blow torch than put it in my mouth."
Shifting his weight to his other foot and barely comprehending anything I'd just shared with him he replies, "Yeah I know, but if you had to choose one which would it be. You know, which one would get the mood right?"
"Well sir, I can see that you're a man of fine tastes and judgment. So unless you're planning on toasting a corpse tonight before splitting that delicious quarter-pounder w/cheese I can already tell you're gonna spring for, I would personally recommend NONE OF THE ABOVE. But let's see...hmmm...if you really wanna get laid I'd go for the Merlot."
"Nice! Thanks man, good lookin' out!"
"No problem dude."
And said dude exits the Cave never to be seen again. I hope his evening was as fantastic as he'd planned.
T
Since we're on the subject of the wine, and since I have the day off tomorrow and won't be posting I'll leave you with a little extra. Today I had the pleasure of stocking all of the Boone's Farm (the fact that someone felt the need to put their actual name on that shit is beyond me). So I go about it pretty normally, lining them all up as I grab them out of their respective boxes. But once I'm done, the artist in me pitches a fucking fit. ROY G BIV that shit motherfucker! I then proceed to ROY G BIV that shit. They are the ones with the white caps. Enjoy!
Strawberry Margarita, Strawberry Hill, Snow Creek Berry, Mountain Berry, Watermelon, Orange Hurricane, Mango Grove, Fuzzy Navel, Wild Island, Melon Ball, Blue Hawaiian, and Sangria. (yes those are all the real names in order.)
PS. If you enjoy reading this. Chances are one of your friends probably would too. Spread the love you selfish fuckers!
3 comments:
Glad to see my OCD is rubbing off on you.
i don't want to hear about you two's sex life. stds are for losers.
don't be jealous cause you're not on the love train ty.
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