Billy vs. The Drunks

When I was in college and really started drinking, I was about as far away from a beer snob as you could be. That choice didn't come from any attempt to be normal and avoid being a douche; it just so happened that cheap beer lots of people frown upon were around $11 a 30 pack. For a college student with no job, that deal sounds like heaven, and it was. So, for two years of college, I drank mostly cheap stuff. Busch, Coors, Miller, etc. Now, don't get me wrong. These beers definitely have their qualities. They're light, and taste decent, and for $11 a 30 pack, they fueled beer pong games for months on end, and I didn't know any better.

Once I left school, and started getting introduced to different beers of different flavors and seasons, I realized there was quite the world out there to satisfy my growing alcoholism. (NOTE: America is frickin great.) Pretty soon, unless there was a drinking game that required a beer that went through you like water, I went for different beers, and I'm not gonna bore you with names. If you know me, you know what they are, and if you don't you're probably so disgusted by my shameless drinking problem that you've switched blogs by now. I don't blame you.

A few years back, we discovered the mecca for our drinking, and it's the Atlantic City Beerfest. And it is just what it sounds like. They essentially rent out an airplane hangar, and fill it to the brim with different beers. They give you a little glass, and let you loose. Imagine there was a BaconFest. There's gotta be, right? Anyway, we've made it a trip every year and it becomes one of my annual highlights, and it's amazing how many drunks they can cram in one place. This year, we got to our session early and made a remarkable and terrifying discovery. The afternoon session was being let out, and have you ever wondered what it sounds like when 3,000 drunks people are let loose into the street at the same time? It's literally a zombie apocalypse. People moaning, screaming, stumbling, falling, attacking, laughing. I knew what it was like to be on THAT side of it, but I had never been on the sober side. A normal person would see it and decide they had more dignity. Luckily that didn't happen. I went in, as did my friends, and we drank for four hours, and we tried to act classy and sophisticated, but by the end we were just like the slobs we saw in the afternoon. Pretty sure that's what you call the circle of life.

Anyway, I guess the moral of my story is that beer is great and everyone should drink it in large groups. Tell your parents HDO said so.