A sample text widget

Etiam pulvinar consectetur dolor sed malesuada. Ut convallis euismod dolor nec pretium. Nunc ut tristique massa.

Nam sodales mi vitae dolor ullamcorper et vulputate enim accumsan. Morbi orci magna, tincidunt vitae molestie nec, molestie at mi. Nulla nulla lorem, suscipit in posuere in, interdum non magna.

Good Things Seem to Happen When I Drink Beer

by Jason Edwards

7:30 PM, Tuesday. I am at my usual Tuesday night spot, Pillager’s Pub in Greenwood. My usual spot used to be Revolutions, a coffee place. But they changed their hours to close at 7 on Tuesday nights, and who can blame them. Coffee after seven? Nevermind that I’d been going there, weekly, for five years. (No, seriously, the guys who own the place are the coolest, nicest guys you’ll ever meet, so I don’t really begrudge them a thing).

I’ve just finished a beer, and Jennie the bartender/server/manager asks me if I want another of the same. I tell her I’ll switch to a pilsner, but she accidentally pours me another kolsch. By Odin. This is like if you say you’ll have just a hamburger and they accidentally bring you one with cheese and bacon on it.

Then the Mariners score a run. Yes, against the As, but we’re four games back from even the As, so I’ll take it.

I drain my kolsch, and this time Jennie brings me the pilsner, without me even asking for it. And then the Mariners score another run. And my wife shows up.

My wife almost never comes out to my Tuesday Night Thing, even though it was on a TNT that I met her in the first place, eight year ago. Call me corny, call me cheesy, but it was a nice treat. I like hanging out with my wife in bars.

I drank my beer, and she told me all about the pie-making class she’d just been too. Where she made a French apple pie with a hand-made crust, and got a pint of vanilla bean ice-cream to go with it.

And when we get home, she says, I can have as much of it as I want.

Here’s the thing, people: I used to be a teetotaler. I used to look down my nose at people who drank. That holier-than-thou attitude was part of my identity.

But when I didn’t drink beer, I didn’t have a favorite bar where the bartender knows my name and knows what I like, I didn’t have a favorite baseball team, and I didn’t have a wife who makes delicious pies.

Go ahead and call me simple, but if I had to trade those things in to be a millionaire, I’d just say “what’s the point.”

Leave a Reply