It was midnight in the big city when I decided I needed a drink. The shoe that is life started to press down upon me and I was but a mere cockroach of a human. The world was a cruel mistress and I was but a sweaty politician that had lost everything and now she was turning her back on me. I knew that the only relief for me would be sitting at the bottom of a glass somewhere out in this wretched world and so I set out to find my salvation.
Editor’s Note: Yes while normally our beers are a paragraph this was a sort of ‘fictional’ column that William considering writing, but eventually abandoned.
I bellied up to the bar and the dame behind the counter looked at me sheepishly (she was young, cute, flirty…reminded me of…her). I smiled as much as muscles could muster but it was half hearted. I told her I needed something that would make me forget the day and make me feel like a real man unlike the castrating reality that is life. She laughed at my request but soon realized that I was serious. She nodded and then asked “What’s your poison?” I thought for a minute and knew that I could have had something hard and it would make me forget faster…but I was not looking to become a drunken mess and drown my sorrows. I wanted to satiate my need for a nice adult beverage and be happy and sober enough to enjoy every minute.
I looked over to her and requested ale. She asked what kind of ale. I had not thought of that so I said to her that I wanted something that could remind me of the reddish-brown hair the woman I loved had. I wanted something that had a taste of the bitterness and hardness life is with a little something extra that can make me feel like I belonged in the world.
She nodded and went over to the tap and came back with a large brew and told me it was Brooklyn Brown Ale. She said it would be perfect for someone like me and the way I was acting. I am glad my façade as a New York 1920s private eye in black and white pictures that you have seen (very film noir) did not go unnoticed. But would it taste of the hard grit Brooklyn residents that live there even today?
I took a look at it…it looked just like her hair color: a cherrywood color with a good head on its shoulders (so to speak). I smelled it: nutty and the bitterness of hops aromatically emanated from the opening of the pint. As I held it the surge of the cold glass chilled me to the bone and soothed the pain that I felt. I looked to the bartender and lifted my glass and said bottoms up to her. She smiled and nodded to me as I took a large swig from the glass. The carbonation tickled my nose but fit well with the flavor. The bitterness of the hops and nuttiness of the brew struck my tongue sharply but the chill feel of the brew made my mouth feel as if it had found what it needed. The sting of alcohol (even if it was only at 5.6% alcohol by volume) somehow became prominent and added to the overall charm that is the Brooklyn Brown Ale. The finish was like any beer in that it was a tad bitter and was nice as it was cold. This was what I needed to start my search for salvation.
As I finished my pint I had felt a surge of being content flow through my body and I sighed and smiled. The bartender walked up and asked: “Do you want another?” I looked at the empty glass with the foam collecting down the bottom and said no, that was all I needed.
I flipped the bartender a quarter for the pint but then she informed me that a pint on tap cost five dollars so I paid the rest and flipped her the quarter as a tip. She said something about a shucking hunt, which I only assume is when you look for corn in a corn field that is the strangest looking and do so by opening them, but I was too far away to understand what she really said.
I was happy with the beer but it was not the best thing I had ever had…but it was what I needed at the time. And much like a dame, when you get the beer you really needed you will find yourself not wanting another. So I set out to find the woman that had broken my heart and I set to win her back. I knew I could do it…hell, I was in black and white and looking rather prolific so she no doubt would enjoy that at least.
Suspect: Brooklyn Brown Ale
Value: 4 (some bottles can be like 2-4 bucks on google shop so…yeah)
Overall metrics: 30/50 (6)
My score: 6 (a match…weird)
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