Recently I started writing a series of posts I named “Stock Clearance” in an effort to clear out some of my over inflated bottle stash and
get drinking some of the beers I’d deemed too special to simply be drunk on a Tuesday
night in front of the Vampire Diaries. I have been depleting my stock somewhat
and I do have around 4 further draft posts about specific beers to post at some
point. Yet on the whole I’ve found the task rather trying due to one simple
matter – I’m too social.
It’s been a tough year thus far on a personal level,
granted, but that hasn’t stopped me retaining any of my lust for my social
butterfly status (or pisshead status, depending who you ask.) Historically, the
few days a week I was not out were set aside for exercising and time off the
booze. Therefore, despite my lust and enjoyment from buying bottles in, I was
drinking far too few. The boxes stored at both home and work were becoming
overwhelming and were only increasing. Since I don’t plan to be at my current
residence past July, the need to deplete my stock increased.
It was Tuesday last week when I ahd no plans for the evening
and decided in the morning on a couple of rather special beers I’d had for too
long would make after work a little easier. They were placed in the fridge and
I looked forward to them at various times when work was drilling its hate into
my brain.
Then came the call, the text, the communication of some sort
I get, gratefully, far too often that found me knocking off work early instead
and in a couple of local pubs. After finding myself still in the pub after a
couple of pints, I realised it would be too much for me to drink the 8%+ drinks
awaiting me in my fridge as well. I looked at the uninspiring pint of Thwaites’
Wainwright in my glass, I looked at the 3 empty cask pumps in a pub that could
offer four ales and for a second I wondered why I was here.
It was then that I realised that I would always choose this
environment over sitting at home with Twitter loaded up and writing a beer
review. It doesn’t matter that the choice isn’t terrific, realistically I have
to travel to central Manchester to find anywhere serving anything exciting
anyway, it is the company, the banter, the setting and the social aspect I will
always desire more. I may have missed out on a few new releases this year by
buying so few bottles, but I’ve stopped caring about such an ideal.
To add to the above realisation, I was surprised to
experience Beer Fatigue for the first time on Sunday. After around ten days
since I last had a full day without a drink, I think I’d reached my limit. It
possibly happened sometime on Saturday when I was at a BBQ and had brought a
great selection of bottles from Mossley Organics and Fine Foods with me. They
were all good beers, but in the warm sun and environment I wondered whether I
would have been just as satisfied with an 8 pack of Becks Vier.
Come Sunday, as I ventured out into the sun again
(completely hangover free, in case you wondered) I realised that I didn’t want
a beer. I didn’t want to be in Port Street with a decent choice. I didn’t want
to be in someone’s garden with a fine selection. I didn’t really want a decent
pint of ale in a local beer garden. I just wanted something refreshing in the sun, like an ice cold
tasteless lager or maybe a G&T. It’s like waking up one morning with your partner,
looking at her and not being attracted to her anymore; that the strong accented
flirty barmaid might be better instead. I need a few days off to get over Beer
Fatigue, but I can confirm it to be a reality and an undesirable one at that
This isn't a "Save your local" campaign or any such nonsense, it's just the personal musings on my own attitude to drinking. Maybe, with the right people, it doesn't always have to be brilliant and worth a blog post.
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