I'm watching the Sex and the City movie for the fourth time and drinking beer. It seems those two activities may be the most indicative of who I am, more than, well, maybe anything. I will say, however, that I only watch the movie for that scene where Charlotte yells "No" toward Big's face after he leaves Carrie in the stacks. I also watch it for the sweet reunion of Miranda and Steve on the Brooklyn bridge. That makes me cry hard every time I see it. I've even cried when it was on mute. My friend Sarah, Ben and I saw it in the theater. Sarah and I were crying our eyes out; Ben was cracking up. I love that moment when Mir and Steve realize what's happening--ahhh. Ok, and the clothes are outrageous and I kind of looove Cynthia Nixon, whose total hottie makeover that occurred for this film and its press tour was insane. Bitch is hott.
So what I'm really writing to you does not at all involve Sex and the City, although you were funny when you guys did that spoof of it on SNL. I was busting the cap off this beer I found in the fridge. It's a little old, and the flavor is not what I'm into. And it reminded me of when I was eating lunch at this bar last week. All that's near my store are bar/restaurants, so I often end up eating more french fries at these places. Anyway, I was sitting at the bar eating this kind of disgusting spicy bean burger. I have no problem with it being all spicy, but melted cheese and mushrooms don't really go with the spice beans. It was not good. I'm sitting there, watching some muted ESPN (it seems like I watch a lot of TV muted), and noticing these folks who just walked in.
They were also on their lunch breaks. I think they were like three guys and a lady. The lady ordered soda. One guy decided he wanted to drink a beer. I wasn't judging, it was like 1:30pm, but one of his friends mentioned that he wouldn't let him drink alone. I don't really find that drinking beer counts as like pre-5 o'clock drinking. It does mean it, but it doesn't mean it. I feel like if you're downing Southern Comfort or anything with a hardcore liquor in the middle of the day that it's a little weird, and I judge a little.
Beer, whatever. But what kind of hit me in the wrong way was that this guy was all, "What kind of IPAs do you have?" For me, people who are beer snobs are a little like people who don't eat certain brands of canned vegetables. I understand it may taste different, but baby, it's also kind of the same. *Break, Charlotte just pooped her pants. The time is not now, but I once pooped a little in my pants in the library as a kid. Okay, I might have been like 13. My stomach started rumbling, I got up to do the weird walk you do when you know you need to hit that toilet, and then I kind of pooted. No, farted. It was disgusting. Annnyway.
Ok, so there may be some beers that taste different from others. When I'm feeling like a baller, I buy some Stella from the grocery store. But generally when I got out, I get some PBR or Bud Light. I mean, you have to drink something when you go out, and no one really looks at you when you're drinking, so I feel like it's okay to drink the "shitty" stuff. I mean, we all get some house liquors on those $2 well drink specials. But there is a particular kind of person who gets very particular about their beer. Maybe I just don't get it because I also think most all beers taste a little alike, except those dumb IPAs. They are too dark and too gross.
No one orders, say, brussell sprouts by special request at a restaurant because they are gross, right? You may eat them on the side if they come with your meal, but the consensus is that they are gross. So are IPAs, to me. Maybe I'm the weird snotty one here. Who knows--I'm watching Sex and the City, the Movie. I mean, whatever.
Jon
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