I Wouldn't Do That if I Were You

Lo these many years ago, the Powers That Be at Big Green University (Harvard of the South, baby!) decided that they were done molding my young mind, and it was time for me to go out into The World.  Accordingly, this event was to be marked with A Celebration.

Long had I pondered the proper way to celebrate such an event, and thus I had A PLAN.  I would assemble a team of mighty livers, and pit them against the best, the worst, and the...most... that our world's distillers and brewers had to offer.  Then the victor of this mighty battle would be....umm, something.  I never really got past "hang out with my friends and get well and truly hammered".

Yankee John was unable to procure transportation to this event, so I drove from N'awlins to South Delaware to pick up his dumb ass.  While there, we decided that a large amount of National Bohemian was required.  This was purchased, and stored in the trunk of my car for the 2-day drive back to N'awlins.

For the uninitiated, National Bohemian ("Natty Boh" to those who love like drink it) is a truly awful beer made from "the sparkling waters of Baltimore Harbor".  It is bad, it is foul, it is nasty, it is disgusting, and it will give you a headache.   There are ancient techniques for mitigating these issues that are passed down from year to year in college dorms, but I will not discuss them here because 1) they are not for the faint of liver and 2) they don't work.  In short, this stuff is shit.  We only drank it because a) it's cheap, b) we had fond, if rather foggy, memories of drinking a lot of it a summer or two previously and c) it's cheap.

So we get back to N'awlins with the Natty Boh, which was improved not at all by two days of sitting unrefrigerated in the trunk of a car in the South in May.  We immediately put it in the fridge, because we wanted it too cold to taste.  We also put a couple in our stomachs, in case of emergency. 

While we were thus enjoying appreciating drinking our beer, two of my other friends expressed interest in this libation.  We explained to them that Natty Boh is bad, it is foul, it is nasty, it is disgusting, and it will give you a headache.  We noted that there was plenty of other stuff to drink.  We warned them that they wouldn't like it.  And then, in the spirit of true friendship, we told them that they could drink it if they wanted to.

My friends considered this, decided that it was unlikely that Yankee John and I would "drive beer that bad this far"*, and elected to drink some.  Big Angry, the history grad student, noted that the beer in question was, in fact: bad, foul, nasty, disgusting, and it gave him a headache.  He decided to stop drinking it and switch to rum and coke or something.  Booger, my pre-law poli-sci roommate, noted the same issues but decided that they were purely coincidental.  I mean, why would you bother bring beer that bad to N'awlins?  There was plenty of good beer at the corner store, for crying out loud!

Booger decided to test his theory by drinking another Natty Boh.  As YJ and I cringed in sympathy, he cracked his second-ever, then proceeded to sip and savor it.  His grimace was a work of art, a thing of awful beauty.  He looked at us, much like a puppy in pain will look at you, with that "I don't understand why the bad thing is happening, please fix it" kind of expression.  He pointed out that this beer was just as bad, foul, nasty, and disgusting as the first.  He further noted that he had a SECOND headache.  The first headache hadn't gotten bigger, or more intense, or worse in any way.  No, he simply had two headaches at once in the same head.  He was very confused and upset by this. 

YJ and I pointed out that we had warned him, that he had proceeded of his own free will, and that now was perhaps a good time to switch to another drink, such as Cinnamon Schnapps.

But that is a tale for another time....


*Not exactly clear thinking on their parts.