Day 137: Stout Saturday

March 30th 2016

goods2I’ve had a rather alcoholic couple of days. Yesterday I was making mead with a friend and today I’m being dragged along to a beer festival with another since she got wind of me liking stout. The flavor text for this event goes as such: I hate beer, I always have and more than likely always will, but there’s one exception to this rule. Stout. It’s black, rich, often sweet and almost always tastes like coffee on the end, it ‘does not’ taste like beer, at least not to me. To most that’s just a fact of life that people have different taste preferences but not to Mel, no, to Mel it’s a challenge to try to get me to like ‘all’ beer.

I was skeptical at best

We arrived some time around noon, I wasn’t really paying attention, in fact I was looking for avenues of escape more than anything; I didn’t want to drink today and I certainly didn’t want to drink copious varieties of beer that I knew I wouldn’t like.

Mel seemed happy about the situation, at least one of us was, and since tasters (about fifty to one-hundred millilitres) were free she eagerly began to ply me with glass after glass of ‘disgusting’ brew. After about twenty minutes I’d already had about two pints worth of the stuff and my stomach was already objecting.

You see, I don’t drink beer solely out of the knowledge that I dislike the taste, I don’t drink beer because it disagrees with me in a rather spectacular fashion. I’ve drunk beer with meals, on its own and when mixed with lemonade and every time, ‘every time’, I always vomit it back up. I’ve ruled out an intolerance to it, I had that checked out by the doctors a few years ago, for some reason it just doesn’t sit well with me and, although it’s lessened in recent years, I can still feel queasy after one pint.

The short version of this story is that after a few more ‘samplers’ I had to rush off to the stout-beer-inside-headernearest bathroom to remove the booze from my system and, at this point, Mel decided that perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea in the first place. The upside of this is that after this I was ‘allowed’ to pursue my drink of choice and spent the remainder of the day in the sun sampling stout after stout- by the end of the day I must have had six or seven pints.

It was a good day and a welcome experience just…

No more beer…

Ever.

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