2005-04-12 - 2:33 p.m.
I was at a �Taste of the Nation� event last night.
�Taste of the Nation� is not a cavalcade of hookers from around the country, - as I first thought when I purchased the tickets - but rather a national charity organization that hosts fund raisers for the homeless. Their events feature food served up by local restaurants. They also feature wine and beer tasting.
Yup. Free Beer.
Do you know what tastes better than beer?
That�s right Skippy: Free Beer.
So hell, count me in. I�m your guy. You know me; I�m a sucker for a charity. It�s all about the kids, or the rain forests or the homeless gay whales, who knows�.as long as there�s free beer involved, I�m up for saving it.
Drink, �Give till it hurts, is my motto.
I think one time, for one horrific afternoon, I actually registered as a democrat. This was a direct result of some devious campaign event that included free beer. Thank god for detox.
Anyhow, after trying most of the dishes, and agreeing with a bunch of local politicians that being hungry is indeed a bad thing, and we should cure it, save it, study it�whatever, I camped out by the Sam Adams beer table.
Mr. Adams was serving up samples of his seasonal beer in itsty bitsy teensy weensy plastic specimen cups.
WTF? How the hell do they expect to save the homeless, cure poverty and create world peace if you�re being stingy with the beer? This is no way to run a charity, sir. No way at all.
So after chatting up the free beer chick, I was quickly upgraded to your standard 16 oz beer mug. Several other bored husbands, noticing the beer mug upgrade joined me in front of the beer table. We had a great time. I think many of them thought I worked for the beer company. I�m not sure. I just know that we got along just fine. We pulled up some chairs and turned the free beer table into our own little private pub.
Several beers later, the details got a bit sketchy, but I think it was divine providence that lead me to the auction room. I was trying to find the bathroom, but a wrong turn landed me smack in the middle of a charity auction.
Maybe it was the overwhelming sense of fulfillment I get from helping others, or perhaps it was my generous, selfless nature surfacing, It may have been the 3 gallons of Summer Ale I just drank. But in an unusual moment of giving and charity I found myself bidding on, and subsequently winning, a bottle of wine.
A $125 bottle of wine.
One hundred and twenty five fucking dollars.
Orpheus something or other. I�m not sure what the name is. It�s a very big bottle. It�s got a cork in it and everything. Some homo personally autographed the side of the bottle in big gold flamboyant script. I can�t read the name. Someone told me it was one of the vineyard�s owners. To me the name looks like �Jenna Jameson�. However, a quick sniff of the bottle quickly rules that theory out.
If you squint your eyes just so, the name begins to look like �Bruce Springsteen�
Springsteen owns a vineyard�.right?
So I�m hoping its �Bruce Springsteen�.
Cool. I own my very own bottle of Springsteen Petite Sirah. Yea. I rock.
Oh yea, save the gay homeless whales too.
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