SPRECHER ROOT BEER IN CALIFORNIA!!! Buying booze for the Super Bo… erm Big Game party at BevMo!, Cath and I discovered that they were now stocking Sprecher Hefeweisen. What?!? I was immediately intrigued and so began my search. But it wasn’t in the upscale soda aisle. Sadness overcame me. How could they justify ordering the beer without the beer of root.
I started walking amongst the shelving units in the middle of the store, fully intending to take my mopey self up to the register, when suddenly the clouds parted and a shaft of sunlight lanced down upon a shelf of bottles. Turning to look, tears welled up in my eyes for I gazed upon that which I had been searching for! The Ambrosia of the Gods – Sprecher Root Beer! Here in California! Fresh off the truck. Vine-ripened. I immediately grabbed four bottles and placed them in the cart. (see picture)
My heart was pounding so loud that I could barely make out the increasingly loud cursing coming from nearby. I came out of my reverie to discover that the stream of profanity was coursing out of the mouth of my formerly sweet-talking girlfriend. What could possibly have happened to cause such a transformation of almost lycanthropic proportions?
She stopped long enough to utter a few gutteral sentences. I just barely made out something about “Valentine’s Day” and “just ordered today.” It came to me. She had ordered Sprecher and was having it shipped out here as my Valentine’s Day gift. And suddenly here it was, less than a mile from her house. Approaching her carefully, I told her how thoughtful that was and how it was such a perfect gift. Gradually I was able to calm her back down.
It appeared the world had been spared. Pulled back from the brink of destruction! You’re welcome. Don’t say I never save the world for you anymore.
And so off we went. Sprecher (and MUCH more) in hand, we walked out of BevMo! The world was a better place. Flowers bloomed. The sun shone. And homeless people smelled like raspberries.
… Don’t ask me why. They just did.
As I awoke this morning,
