Now look, I've never really been one for day drinking. Ask anyone and they'll tell you - I believe God made night time for drinking and daytime for careful and studious analysis of all the trouble that drinking brings. However sometimes an opportunity presents itself that makes it hard to resist a nice daytime bradweiser. Or two. Or, in this case, more.
Put yourself in my position - It's 4:00 pm, Friday, the sun is shining, this is the first day with temps above 70. Me and Bre are just getting over some nasty head colds, and the lady says she wants to meet at my favorite bar in Durham (The Fed) for a beer. So you tell me - what's a hard grubbin brah to do?
I'll tell you what.
That's at around 4:00. And what happens? You know what happens.
Seriously? 39 PBR? What the hell is wrong with us? I couldn't once order something else? A tonic water? Nah, PBR. Maybe a coke? No! PBR. OK, fine - a miller high life? Nope! PBR.
Oh, yes, I had my Jager, one of those absoluts and yes, I did have one of those lemon drops (I can't really explain that one) - but the whole time I did it with my friend, good old PBR, yielding the highest number of one item I'd ever seen ordered on a bill - 39. Also, note that it's 10:30.
Unfortunately somehow while downing 1/4 of those 39 PBR's, I missed the opportunity to get a picture of the Nachos, Grilled Cheese, and Shrimp And Grits that hit our table, but I did get a picture of the number 39, right next to the word "PBR"
Next time I'll try and review some of the surprisingly delicious food at this dive-looking, but fine-tasting bar, but till then, watch out for the day drinking boys and girls. That shit sneaks up on you.