Graphic by Sophie Nguyen
Look, I’m a beer guy; I like beer.
It’s always been my beverage of choice. Tailgates, the big game, a much-needed refreshment after working out with the guys — I like beer.
At least that’s what I thought.
See, I was at this wild rager of a party last week. The theme of the night was “Swill & Safari,” so I’d put strips of white tape across my court dress to dress up as “ZeBrett”. It was a big hit with the guys. I was talking to this chick from the office and, realizing my can was bone-dry, asked my buddy to pass me a cold one from across the room. He tossed a long skinny can over to me and, upon an excellent catch by yours truly, I noticed that it was in fact not beer. “White Claw,” the can read, “Ruby Grapefruit”.
Grapefruit-flavored beer? I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, so of course I closed my eyes and drank it all. Wow.
Lemme tell you: this was something special. It was ther bitter nor musky, hoppy nor malty. There was no aftertaste of sweat nor self-loathing. No — it was a little bit sweet, deliciously fruity, and had a lively fizz. I stumbled over to the cooler for more.
Before my eyes was a wide array of exciting new flavors: Pineapple, Black Cherry, Mango, Natural Lime. Oh my! I just had to try them all.
One down, two down, a piña colada flavor? Three down, four down, hints of tropical mango tickling down my tongue. Five down, six down… WATERMELON LIME SMASH?
Well, I don’t remember much of what happened next, but the next morning I woke up with my blacks smelling fruitier and feeling stickier than ever before. The case that day was something about abortion, but I had bigger things on my mind. While the defense droned on, I passed a note to Alito describing my revelation. On our lunch break, the two of us walked over to the liquor store around the corner (as we do) and grabbed a 12-pack for the Capitol mini-fridge. Let’s just say that the rest of the case was a blur. Hey, don’t blame me — I like White Claw!
