I’m at the bar, busy hippie show, back story, I don’t drink, haven’t for a year and seven months, but I drink Kaliber, an N/A beer. I put it in a neon-green koozie so you can’t see the label. Not that I care, but…the story goes on.
I make a transaction, finish it up, I gotta sec, think I’ll take a sip of beer, and…WHAT THE FUCK?!?! I try to spit it out, but it’s too late. I take the bottle out of the koozie, no it’s not a Kaliber, it’s a fucking Schlitz.
My emotions run the gamut. It was the door guy’s beer, not mine. He uses the same koozie. Damn it. I feel bummed, like I made a major mistake. I feel scared. Am I going to back slide now, go back to my old ways? I shake my head, in disappointment, but I have to admit,
That was the best fucking thing I’ve tasted in a year and seven months.
From my heart to yours,
Clint Curtis. Bartender.