Over the weekend, an incredible feat was achieved.
A little background: The Boy has lived in the historic Southside for going on four years. After college, he moved to the ‘Burgh and never looked back. His love for the ‘Burgh was certainly tangled in another true love: beer.
When The Boy first moved in, he quickly took to frequenting Fathead’s Saloon (1805 East Carson Street) a mecca of imports and craft-brewed beers. The space is known for huge sandwiches, 40+ rotating beers on tap, big crowds, and an upstairs 6-pack shop. He soon learned of the Fatheads ‘Frequent Flyer Beer Tour’ program. Sign up and once you have slurped down 75 different beers (recorded via a scanned ‘Frequent Flyer’ card), you are awarded with your name on a huge sign hanging over the bar as well as a Fathead’s bobble-head. The glory!
Somehow, over the course of 4 years, The Boy managed to have his name stamped upon the ‘World Foamous’ wall 3 times (actual name). All the happy hours and boys’ nights and lazy Friday night dinners and visits with out of towners added up. I was somewhat amazed/disturbed by the whole thing, but the Boy loved his beer and I loved the Fathead’s honey mustard dressing so I went along with the nonsense.
Back to the present. The Boy and a long time friend and work colleaugue decided to attempt the unimaginable – achieve the 75 beer mark in one weekend. Now, they bent the rules a bit – they would achieve this together, each downing 37.5 beers starting Friday night and ending Sunday evening. Please consider drinking a craft-brew is not like drinking a Coors Light. They had a plan though, pacing themselves, taking breaks, drinking water. It sounded possibly attainable.
Again, the motive here baffles me. What is the motive? I just don’t get it. However, boys will be boys and the idea of drinking all this beer was thrilling to them – I will not attempt to understand any further. I joined them Friday evening for a few brews and dinner, careful to leave before things got too rowdy and sud-soaked.
I enjoyed the rest of my weekend, catching up with friends and family, leaving the boys to their own devices.
Sunday night, I got the call (err, text).
‘WE DID IT!’.
That’s my guy!
I still think the whole thing ridiculous, but The Boy and his buddy will talk about this for years to come, cherishing it as something they did when young and stupid, bragging about it to others. Also, everyone was still upright by the end of the weekend, which was good.
So I shake my head and outwardly proclaim my non-support of such idiocy. However, under my dissatisfaction is a bit of a smirk, a bit of appreciation for the forever-young attitude of The Boy.
Oh Boy 🙂
Check back for actual reviews of the food and drink…this place is good stuff!