It seems that the flu that Ms. Girl Drinker suffered last week was contagious. But just as her bout with the once-killer virus...or is it bacteria?...didn't stop her from putting in a little quality time at her favorite watering hole, I would not be dissuaded from enjoying my beloved beer.
As it happened, this particular bit of infirmary time coincided with a stretch of broke-ness, and I would have to make do with whatever leftover beers were in the fridge. Fine by me, as I didn't feel like driving anyway. Luckily, there were a couple bottles of Shiner 100 Commemorator and a few Blue Moons left in the fridge. I had purchased the Shiner 100 before getting sick, and remember being very impressed with the dark doppelbock. Now, though, all I tasted was cold and carbonation. Only the strongest chocolate malty notes cut through the nasty infected slick closing off the entire interior of my head. I will say, though, that the 6.7 percent ABV had me feeling a bit better by the bottom of the bottle. Likewise with the follow-up beers--the only thing I enjoyed was the alcohol.
I haven't even bothered to replenish my stock now that my fridge is completely void of beer, a condition nearly unprecedented in my adult life. Why bother drinking beer if you can't taste it? Each sip is just another sad reminder of the fun you and your buds--taste buds--could be having. So instead, I've made do with nightcaps of Theraflu and whiskey. Also, today I rediscovered the therapeutic qualities of hot buttered rum.
But it's no substitute for a couple of fine ales. I just can't wait till I can taste them again.