cold water kills tropical fish
i woke up in my long johns last saturday. i don’t know if long johns are okay anymore, fashion wise, but our landlord hadn’t turned the heat on until then. i only complain because i have tropical fish and if it’s too cold they die. lauren sent me a message. it forced me to buy wine. i walked to the boozer and back home.
we were supposed to go meet some physicists at some bar later in the night. i drank wine without making trouble about not having beer.
eventually, after listening to this this and this, we walked through black alleys sipping stuff. we ended up at a tennis court. it was empty and we danced a little in it. i found a wooden spoon in the grass and kept it. i thought i’d show it to the physicists.
finding physicists in a bar is difficult
we got to the place they were at. i didn’t like it. it looked like the picture below but instead of cars and blue sky, picture bros and dark sky. lauren kept saying, “i really gotta poo.” i felt embarrassed. i had a wooden spoon sticking out of my coat and lauren talked about poo. they carded us and let us in. i couldn’t believe my physicist friend would hang out here.
it was a maze and i kept boning people with my elbows and we were lost. lauren went to poo. i stood outside the bathroom knocking my knuckles together. i tried calling my physicist friend but he wouldn’t pick up.
he sent me a message. it said, ‘hey call me when you get here. this place is a maze’.
i tried calling again to no answer.
i get nervous in public places standing alone
lauren came out of the bathroom. we walked around the connected victorian houses. i ordered a couple of beers from the bar. they poured one. they poured the second and stopped halfway.
“uh, the beer’s run out. you want another one?”
beers from blue taps
i pointed to a blue handled tap and he poured me something i didn’t really want. i didn’t know what it was either but it seemed better than labatt 50. i walked around and found my physicist friend. he introduced me to his other physicist friends and we talked about space jam and william burroughs.
i thought oh man this is a pretty sweet beer. i can’t remember the smell because there were men around our seats by the window and i can’t remember the colour accurately because bars tend to be dimly lit (or that’s just my head).
it looked amber and had no head. i yelled ‘EW’ at two people making out at a booth across from us. this wasn’t very good reviewing environment but it’s all i had this week. i swirled it around to
i) possible spill on someone
ii) agitate the thing
this made the unknown beer bubble. i sipped it and it tasted better. it was smooth and didn’t feel like drinking hard water. it was lightly hopped but tangy. i can’t describe the taste much further than that because i took a break from the beer. when i came back to it, it had gone warm and held too much flavour. i downed the fruit show down and got another.
i found out what it was called
the barkeep told me it was creemore. i realized i had never drank creemore before. sitting here now i feel lacking. how could i have never had creemore before? shameful. i hadn’t drank creemore before but i’m glad i did. it’s great if you’re out meeting physicists at a victorian house turned into a bar where people make out in booths and everyone’s got three layers of face on and all the other beers are either molson or run out while they’re pouring your pint.
it’s not the typical borefest lager. it’s very amber and rewarding. plug some into your mouth sometime soon.