So, my wife — on very rare occasion — drinks these things called Buzz Balls. I drink beer. That’s my thing these days. I used to drink all manner of shit till all hours of the night, but I’ve tempered my behavior in my advancing years. So, I drink beer. She drinks wine, or these fucking Buzz Balls.
Why the hate? Tonight I had a couple beers in the fridge. I drank them. No alcohol left in the house. (Don’t hate, I quit drinking hard alcohol over a year ago.) So I’m holding my empty beer can, looking in the fridge, and I see a Buzz Ball. Lately, she says she hates them. Not worth the trouble. Makes her feel crappy, etc.
I look at the side of the container. Peach Chiller is 17% alcohol by volume.
Okay, this will do.
“Mind if I drink it?”
“Go right ahead.”
So I do. And it’s wretched. It reminds me of our jungle juice days in high school: Everclear and pink lemonade and chunks of fruit when we were feeling particularly industrious. Yeah, it tastes that bad. And wow … ack. But hey, 17% alcohol by volume. That’s really the only thing it’s got going for it. But hey, if ABV and fruity flavors are all that matter, you might as well swing by a liquor store and buy some schnapps. But then I guess anything you can buy at Walmart is more generally acceptable than something you pour out of a brown, pint sized bottle.
In any event, that’ll teach me — never run out of beer.