So I’ve not been back in this great :rolleyes: state of Indiana a whole 7 months now. I’d been living in Seattle for the past 8 years. Since the town I’m living in is small, there are not a whole lot of options to quench MeatBeasts undying passion for hops. I decided to join the local Eagles. Although I am probably the third youngest member there (the average age is around 48) and I stick out a bit. MeatBeast has several piercings and tattoos, where as the normal barfly there has a John Deere hat, flannel shirt and an NRA card that he uses as a bookmark in his bible. They’re all very polite to me, though, and since the other bars are usually crowded with frat boys from the local college looking for a scuffle, it works out nicely.
The only problem is the beer selection. They started ordering St. Paulie Girl just for me. Everyone else drinks Bud, Miller or Coors. They decided it was worthwhile, though, since I drank their entire supply of Corona they had in stock (which had been setting for months) in 3 weeks.
But then…the St. Paulie Girl stopped coming. “Order some more!” I pleaded.
“We tried. You drank the local distributor out. They have to get some from their main plant”
“How long will that take?”
“2 weeks”
:eek:
:mad:
So the MeatBeast sadly orders a Corona (they don’t even carry lime ) and becomes a miserable puddle of unsatisfied drunkeness.
2 weeks later
I stroll in with one of these numbers on: 
and there
…is…still…no GOOD BEER!!! :mad:
“Fe Fi Fo Fum!” I growled angrily (or something similar)
“Sorry,” they says, “but you drank their entire warehouse out of St. Paulie.”
…"…so what your saying is…?" I says…
“Yep. You’ve drank the distributors entire St Paulie Girl supply. For the entire state of Indiana.” :eek:
…do you think I can put this on my resume?