What I Do When My Girlfriend is Away

My girlfriend left me for a long weekend to attend her high school reunion. Men could use this time for a lot of different things and here is how I used it. After brewing an experimental ale on Thursday, I completed work on Friday and came home to assemble some new brewing equipment. Then we went out to an all you can drink special for 3 hours and it is safe to say that I drank all that I could. I would just be foolish to stay at a bar after the all you can drink so over, so we headed out looking for adventure. The first stop on the magical voyage was a trolley that would guide us through the rest of the evening. I'm not entirely sure whether the trolley was part of someone else's party or a promotion for a bar. But all I needed was the case of beer aboard and the will to have a good time. I asked the driver if the trolley was going to take us to a certain bar where one of my coworkers was having a party (which was coincidently all you can drink also). he told me it was going there, but what he did not mention was that the trolley was going to make a stop between here and there. So there I was at a bar on the beach with my new trolley friends with no idea where we were, what we were doing there, or how long we were going to be there. After a while I grew tired of standing by the doorway waiting to go, so I headed back down to the trolley to see when we were going to leave. He told me that the trolley parked there was just for show and another one would be taking us to the next bar. So I boarded the trolley anyway and noticed the rest of case of beer sitting there. As people walked by asked if we were going to leave I handed them a beer. Before no time the trolley was full and we were on our way to the bar. We arrived at the bar with 15 minutes left in the all you can drink special, so I only go two more drinks. I met up with our other coworker and we had a conversation about how I should work hard and try to move up the ladder. I soon grew weary of his conversation and went to go find my friend. The last time I saw my drinking companion for the night was when he feel off and stool and broke a glass. I later found out he got back on the trolley threw up on it, got kicked off, and then passed out on the street where someone used his cell phone to call his girlfriend to tell her to pick him up. His night was over when I last saw him, however mine continued on. After my failed attempt to find him after visiting the bathroom, I decided that it was time to leave. The only problem was that I had no idea where I was. So I got some cash and then hopped into a cab. It took me to my house, but instead of calling it a night I went to our rugby bar and met up with a few players. After a long conversation about how I should work to try to play international rugby. I quickly grew tired of this discussion and headed back home for the night. Needless to say the next morning I felt pretty bad, but that didn't stop me from making the most beer out of my day. I made a trip for to the homebrewstore to pick up some ingredients not for that day but for my ambition to brew two days in a row. Then I drove about 45 minutes out of my way to an Indian neighborhood to pick up a special more aromatic type of coriander. After I cracked it open I was glad that I did. It had a much better citrusy smell that normal coriander. After I got home we made some seasoned salmon and then I started my brewing. It took me until later hours than I had expected but I am confident that the increased effort of getting better ingredients and new equipment will be well worth it. The next day I brewed again. I will not bore you with any details (if you'd like some leave a comment...I brewed a Belgian Wit), but I did see the movie American History X for the first time and felt that it was a lot to take in. The rest of Sunday night I watched TV, made my grandma's banana cupcakes, and then got a call from home that proved to be too late for me to talk to may dad on Father's Day (he was passed out, it was probably from the hops in the beer he drank). What can I say...I'm a bad son.