I did manage to get through the two weeks without strangling one of the bastards. Didn’t even come close. The reverse probably isn’t true. They did look like they wanted to physically attack me a couple of times when I was being “annoying” as they claimed.
All unscarred physically. And only slightly mentally. I’ll call that a win.
I was a bit disappointed with the beer choice in most taprooms. These were the options mostly: IPA, Sludge IPA, Sour, Sludge IPA with fruit, Sour with fruit, Sludge IPA with fruit and shit, sour with fruit and shit, Pilsner. Other than a couple of Porters, almost no dark beers of any description.
According to my Lager consultant (Andrew), North American brewers are getting better at brewing Pilsner. He says a couple even tasted like German ones. Though there were still quite a few well wide of the mark.
On a personal level, great to meet some old friends and to make some new ones. That’s what these trips are all about: blagging free beer for me and the kids. We may have succeeded too well, if you see the bruises on Andrew’s arms from carrying a box of (very nice) beer.
“It’s a price worth paying for that beer, Andrew.”
“You’re not the one fucking paying it, Dad.”
“That’s a bit selfish.”
“Just fuck right off, or carry it yourself.”
“You’re making such a good job of it.”
“Fuck off with your bullshit.”
Aah. The happy banter. How much fun was it?
“Not as much as you think, Dad.”
“Did I . ..
“Yes, Dad. You did say that out loud. Now shut up.”