Today was a day of unfortunate realizations. First was the realization that my absolute favorite, absolute only, Modest Mouse shirt had a hole in it. Next came the realization that my favorite jeans (too expensive to replace) also had a hole in them…near the butt.
Both realizations occurred in a 15-minute period at the Tugboat Brewery in Portland (my favorite brewery there, by the way). Even sadder (more sad?) was the fact the Tugboat was out of Chernobyl Stout (my favorite beer there) that might have eased the mortification of having my near-butt hang out of my favorite jeans.
So. I satisfied myself with a Triple Bock instead. Bocks are my favorite type of beer, but they don’t seem to exist outside of Oregon. Much like how decent lattes don’t seem to exist outside of Oregon (with slight apologies to Washington state’s delusions).
It has been a day of unfortunate realizations and exposures of near-butts. And as my beerglass is backlit by candle (with live music in the background), I realize that the patterns left on my glass from the foam look like a strange language. I’ve tried for years, but I still can’t decipher it.
Moral of today’s story: check your tires when you rent a car. Otherwise, you might find yourself with a leak, many miles from home-base, on a Sunday afternoon. Then you’ll need to rely on the kindness of a strange fellow who repairs ATV’s to patch your tire illegally, since there is no tread left on it. Adventures!
An Erinku:
candelight
on
onion rings
sexy and tasty!
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