Photo: That, my Dear Reader, is chicken on a rotisserie. My chicken on my rotisserie. Getting our new grill was a complete and utter royal pain in my butt, but that rotisserie children makes it all worth it. All of it. And yes, it was delicious. This is a longtime culinary dream come true. “What are you going to rotisserie next time?” My sons asked me last night. “The world,” I said. “The world!” And then there was maniacal laughter and thunder in the distance because that’s just how glorious the moment was.
Okay, so I’m going to confess to being that suburban woman on Saturday. The one I usually spend a lot of time judging. The one who makes a big fuss and scene in a place, giving people a hard time for seemingly no reason. Her inconvenience turns into the utter inconvenience of everyone around her and an unnecessary spectacle to boot. I’ve made it a sport and an art of judging that woman. I enjoy doing so. Sure, I write a lot about faith and prayer and being a good person, but I’m human. Certain suburban women drive me crazy and when they act crazy I enjoy rolling my eyes, shaking my head, imitating them when I’m with my friends, and feeling better about myself and my behavior. Everyone has a growing edge. Everyone. Especially the people who think they don’t. (Those people especially drive me crazy.) I judge suburban women. This is (one of) my growing edge(s). Okay? Ok.
But here is the thing: I write all the time about how the universe is always in balance. I also write that God don’t like ugly. So this was me on Saturday. Being that woman. I was that woman.
I ran into my local liquor store yesterday looking for cool and tasty adult beverages to drink. I needed a bottle of wine and I wanted some beer. Sam Summer Ale changed their formula and it tastes gross now, so I went looking for my other summer standby, Shiner Bock, which my sister introduced me to when she moved to Texas. Shiner is delicious and is perfect for summer time. It’s crisp, not too heavy, and smooth. I’ll drink Shiner until my autumnal beers come back. No problem.
I went to the case looking for my Shiner and found that in its place was some other brand. Some other brand‘s IPA.
I hate IPA.
I hate IPA. Ohhhhhh how I hate IPA. IPA tastes like sweat. It tastes like backwash. It tastes like some bro backwashed into their favorite bro’s backwash and then distilled that backwash in laundry water and then bottled it and marketed it to their favorite bro. It’s this oddly bitter, horrible nasty beer. Somehow, it has captured the imagination of everyone else’s palate around here. I can’t. even. Slowly, very slowly, I’ve watched more and more shelf space become occupied by some new brand’s latest riff on the IPA. I’ve seen IPA. Double IPA. Triple IPA. New England Pale Ale. Boston Pale Ale. Sweat laundry water in a bottle. Doesn’t matter what you name it, it all tastes awful.
And I’ve endured the encroachment of this nastiness because I’ve seen food trends come and go. Saturation point happens. People get over it. Things snap back or move on. Usually, I can get by on whatever my good thing is and I just wait for people to get back to their sense. I enjoy the chuckle afterwards. “haha, you were crazy with that thing. Welcome back to not-crazy town!”
But this time… this time… my thing got replaced.
“Excuse me, where is the Shiner Bock?”
“Oh, uh… well… I mean, the shipment didn’t come in. I’m not sure what’s up with…”
“Oh good. I thought it had been replaced with another ghastly IPA. Do you know when more are coming in?”
“Well, the thing is, I’m not sure… We’re making room for the summer IPAs and…”
“Augh. IPAs are so awful! Don’t do this to me! At least there will be Fall beers coming back in September, right? Those won’t be IPAs, will they?”
“Um, well, probably….”
“WHAT? You guys! Don’t do this to me! Are you serious? IPA isn’t even a Fall beer!”
“Well, miss, the market has been trending–”
“Right. IPA is having it’s Pumpkin moment. But it won’t last long. We’ll all get back to normal. Right?”
So I growl and I pick up Sam Boston Ale, which is okay, but not as good as Shiner. I grumble up to the counter with my Chardonnay and my Riesling (I need extra wine because clearly I won’t be enjoying beer for the rest of the summer!) and my bad Boston Ale and I spot my favorite ring-up guy. He went to school in Baltimore. We commune about Maryland things.
“Dude, man. This IPA thing. Y’all are killing me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the market. Been moving this way for 5 or 6 years now… ”
“Come on, though, I mean… other people are still making other beers, though. Right?”
“Right, but right now everyone is drinking IPA.”
“I’m not drinking IPA. IPA is awful!”
“Well, you know… but everyone else….”
“So y’all really trying to replace everything in here with IPA?”
“Uh… I mean… it’s not like we haven’t… I mean, everything in here, it’s, like, all IPA.”
“I KNOW! THAT’S THE PROBLEM!”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I guess I’m just going to drink wine for the rest of the summer!”
Another shrug. “I guess you are.”
I stomp out of the stupid store with my stupid stuff that I stupid bought. The guy behind me, now stepping up to the counter, said to the check-out dude, “really? Has the market been moving this way for that long?”
I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. It doesn’t really matter.
I informed my husband that we need a new liquor store. “I…probably can’t go back to [regular liquor store] for a while,” I added sheepishly. He smiled his forgiveness and laughed. He’s known my horrible behavior for so long now and loves me anyway. Bless him and bless him again.
Remember, like, 20 years ago, when there were only 5 brands and they all made the same bad beer? It was Bud and other Buds and they all tasted awful but people drank it anyway. Everything else was an “import” which made it very expensive and/or difficult to get. Now, we have all sorts of different types of craft brands and everyone has a brew and for a minute, everything was awesome! But it seems to me like we’ve got 10 billion brands all brewing the same damn awful beer. Stop it, y’all!
I was told on Facebook that I’m a hater. Yeah, I am. I was doing my best to be graceful. I was enjoying my thing in my corner in peace. But my thing got took, so there was no grace to hold onto. Only rage. Only haterade.
So there, that’s my story. I’m shrinking back to a normal, totally polite in public places sort of person. The Boston Ale, poorly substitute that it is, has sufficiently mellowed me out. But there is so much time between now and Fall beer season! So much time!! What’s a girl to doooo?
Get back to work, for one. It’s another week and there is too much to do to be whining like this. 🙂 I promise to get it together. Thank you for indulging my little rant today. Happy short holiday week!
I’ll see you Wednesday for some holiday weekend Quiet Thoughts.