Beer Can Fan Fiction: ‘The Case of the Blonde and the Nice Can’
The 2012 election is on! It’s between me and my good friend Mike from BrewDad as to which one of us will be lucky enough to win a trip to Reno for the 2012 CANFEST, a celebration of craft beer in cans. The following is the post that I wrote for the contest. Please go to this link and vote online.
The blonde slid onto my desk with an attitude so cool the temperature dropped 20 degrees.
I walked over and clicked off the clacking metal fan that kept me from bursting into flames during this blasted heat wave that was boosting the Fort Lauderdale summer from merely boiling to highly flammable.
“What do you mean?” she squeaked in a bubbly voice.
“My friend said you were a craft beer.”
“But you’re a can, not a bottle.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
I wasn’t sure how to reply. As I gathered my thoughts, I studied the beer bottle collection that filled the concrete-block-and-wood-plank shelves hiding the holes in the walls of this dump. Bombers of Rogue. A couple of 750 ml Saint Somewheres. 12-ouncers of a whole lot of other crafts.
Then I spotted the dusty can in the corner. Oskar Blues Ten Fidy.
I remembered, barely, drinking the Russian Imperial Stout at the reception for my fourth marriage. Someone handed it to me, I drank it, and that’s all I recall the rest of the night. In fact, that’s all I remember for the rest of the marriage – ain’t Vegas great?
How did the can get back here? I can’t recall that either, but there’s a lot in my life that’s purged from my memory, sometimes by choice.
“Ok, Blondie, I suppose you can put craft beer in a can. And it can be pretty awesome. Now whaddya want from me?”
“I need an escort.”
I cocked my right eyebrow.
“Not that kind, you lech. Someone to protect me on a trip to Reno.”
“Protect you from what, or who?”
“The Beer Snobberati. There are plenty of them between here and the CANFEST, and they’re powerful. Some of them don’t like craft beer in cans. Some of them hate it. I need to get there undented. Once I’m in Reno, I’ll be under the protection of the boys from Mammoth Brewing Company. Sure they put a lot of their stuff in bottles, but they love a nice can, too.”
“Who doesn’t,” I quipped, feeling pretty witty.
“That’s not very witty,” she snapped back. “Will you do it?”
“What did I do to deserve this?”
“I heard you ain’t a beer snob. Geek, sure. But not a snob. I like that.”
“I’ll do it. Sounds like an easy job, and I get a road trip for beer out of it.”
“Don’t underestimate the Snobberati.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a beer bottle waltzed with my skull. Don’t you worry your foamy little head about that, though. I have a hard braincase. My job is to worry about you.”
The next morning, I picked her up, packed her in the cooler and set the GPS for Reno.
To be continued November 3, 2012, at the fourth annual CANFEST, the first beer festival in the world to serve only beers from cans, if I get enough votes to win a trip via the CANFEST Beer Blogger Contest. Please go to this link to vote.
More details here: Put your vote in the (beer) can for a good man