The Good Beer
The Good Beer
As much as I love beer, I am not a beer snob. I’ll drink a finely-crafted microbrew IPA, or a can of BudLite. I just like beer. I like everything about it. It’s one of the most awesome beverages ever created. So a few years ago when my ex-boyfriend offered me a can of Miller Lite at a party, I thought nothing of it.
We had just started dating and this was the very first time I was going to his house to meet his roommates. They were having a party and ex-boyfriend was the only person I knew. As per usual, I wanted to make a good impression, which led me to be as awkward as humanly possible.
“Want a beer?” he asked when I’d been there for about two minutes.
Yes, liquid courage is what I needed. A can of Miller Lite would work as well as anything. So I cracked it open and proceeded to mingle.
Ten minutes later as I stood in the backyard trying my best to talk to ex-boyfriend’s roommate’s girlfriend, ex-boyfriend comes strutting out of the house with a Corona.
Again, I thought nothing of this other than “oh, Corona, I should find one of those.”
Perhaps the Corona had been brought in by a party guest for sharing?
No.
Apparently, ex-boyfriend had bought a case of Corona . . . for himself. The Miller Lite was for the party guests. The Corona, or as he called it, “the good beer,” that was ever so slightly more expensive, was just for him. After asking if I could have one, he said no and handed me another Miller Lite because that was what was intended for the guests.
Welcome to the party, Amanda!
Lessons learned:
A) Leave a party where Corona is considered “the good beer.”
B) Men who are unwilling to share one bottle of said “good beer” will not share other good things with you, like the covers, the remote control or their affection.
C) I should not be surprised that this guy still owes me money, four years later.
Merry Christmas, Amanda Brown
Last week, I went to Christmas party with my mother. At one point, someone asked me, “What’s your favorite part about Christmas?”
To which I replied, “The crushing blackness of depression . . . and candy canes.”
My mother was not exactly enthused with my response. Actually, a lot of people find my disgust at the holiday season disconcerting.
To clarify, I don’t hate Christmas. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are right up there with Thanksgiving in my favorite days of the year. I’m a big fan of anything that revolves around presents and candy and general good will towards men. It’s also the one day of the year that my dad let’s me dip into his collection of high end single malt scotch.
What I don’t like is the six or so weeks of over-hyped romantic fantasies that involve mistletoe and some poor hapless girl finding finding the love of her life with the help of a fat burglar who steals baked goods. Do I really want to watch endless hours of Reese Witherspoon, or worse, Valerie Bertinelli find true love at Christmas?
It’s the time of year where every commercial talks about what to “get that special someone” for Christmas or you’ll get asked “who are you bringing to the New Year’s Eve party?”
The previews alone for the movie “New Year’s Eve,” made me want to shoot an elf.
Whatever holiday you celebrate, if you’re single, that over-merried gush of expected romance is inescapable. And if, for some reason, you don’t feel merry about showing up alone to another holiday party, there are the nice little pats on the arm and the “you’ll find someone this year.”
Can I not just be happy with my peppermint schnapps?
Lesson learned: In the words of Adult Swim, “Have a reasonably jolly holiday season.” And if anyone wants to give you a new year’s resolution about dating, feel free to stab them with a candy cane.
The Twelve Dates of Christmas
On the first date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, a British man who needed to pee.
On the second date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, two bouts of flu and a British man who needed to pee.
On the third date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the fourth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the fifth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the sixth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the seventh date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the eighth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, eight grammar errors, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the ninth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, nine crappy movies, eight grammar errors, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the tenth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, ten propositions, nine crappy movies, eight grammar errors, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the eleventh date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, eleven creepy orgies, ten propositions, nine crappy movies, eight grammar errors, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
On the twelfth date of Christmas, this one guy gave to me, twelve cheating cliff divers, eleven creepy orgies, ten propositions, nine crappy movies, eight grammar errors, seven dirty pictures, six zombies biting, five pick up lines, four naked mermaids, three psycho stalkers, two bouts of flu and a British guy who needed to pee.
Have a merry December!