Free Beer Sucks!!

I must be allergic to free beer. I can’t think of any other explanation. Don’t get me wrong, if there is beer in your fridge and I didn’t put it there, more than likely I’ll drink it and be fine. Or, if I’m at an event and either run out of beer or didn’t bring my own to begin with, I will have no problem taking you up on your offer to have “a few” of yours. Those kinds of beer are not a problem and are also very much appreciated. The kind of beer I’m talking about has only presented itself to me twice and both times, despite all of the anticipation, planning, and excitement about the mass quantities of free beer that I was going to consume, I got sick. Oddly enough, this has happened at the same event for the past two years and actually may be a blessing in disguise.

Every year, my employer sponsors a night at Busch Stadium for all of their corporate employees to enjoy baseball, each other, and free food and drinks. This is a wonderful gesture and although I have to suffer through a Cardinal game to experience it, I always look forward to it. I like hanging out with my co-workers, I love baseball, and I adore the idea that I can have as many 8 oz beers as I want prior to the 7th inning stretch. Plus, being a HUGE fan of ballpark hot dogs, I can eat them until I’m ready to burst. That was definitely the plan going into last night, but my body had other things in store for me.

Last year my coworkers and I started out at Shannon’s bar directly across the stadium and a block away from our office prior to the game. We get off work at 4:30 and the free food and beer don’t start until thirty minutes prior to game time, so we usually have time to drink two or three (or more) beers that we pay for prior to going into the stadium. That’s always a good time because people are able to let loose and drop their “professional” persona while enjoying a few frosty cold ones. Also, Shannon’s provides a nice meeting spot for spouses, friends, kids, or whoever else may be joining us for the game that evening. We always end up leaving there with smiles on our faces and expectations of having a great time.

Once we got into the stadium we took the stairs to our section where we proceeded to pick out a table, grab a free beer, and get in line for the buffet. Oh what a spread. It started off with cookies and brownies, a platter of buns (hot dog and hamburger), a plate of hot dogs and sauerkraut, a pot filled with beans, a nacho station, and a tray of beef brisket. I was in heaven. On my first trip I grabbed two hot dogs, a beef brisket sandwich, some cookies, brownies, and a plate of nachos. I decided to skip the beans because a) I don’t like them, and b) I thought it might make me look like a pig. I went back to my seat still feeling a little fuzzy from the beers at Shannon’s, ate all of my food, drank my beer, and watched a little of the game. In the middle of the first inning I went back to grab another hot dog, some more nachos, another brownie, and an 8 oz beer. By the time I was done eating that, I realized that I hadn’t touched my beer.

I looked at the beer and knew that I was thirsty, knew that I liked beer, and knew that the combination of the two should make me pick it up and take a drink, but it didn’t happen. I just couldn’t. As the innings passed, I looked at that beer and wondered why I couldn’t drink it. Surely I would get to a point where I would cherish the thought of picking up that 8 oz cup of joy, slamming it, and then heading back to get another, but the thought of it made me sick. Really sick. First, I was sick at the idea that my company not only wanted me to drink a shit ton of beer, but that they were also paying for me to do so and I couldn’t pull the trigger. Second, I was sick at the thought of the taste of that free beer swimming down my gullet. I finally had to push it away and not even look at it. For some unknown reason, that free beer left a nasty taste in my mouth and I wanted no more of it. I left the game around the 7th inning drove home to go to bed.

Fail.

This year was going to be different though. It was brought to my attention that maybe (just maybe) I had eaten too much last year and THAT was why I started feeling bad at the game. I decided that no matter how convoluted that sounded, maybe (just maybe) they were right and that I should hold back on the buffet this time.

We started out again at Shannon’s where we proceeded to have our two or three (or more) beers prior to heading over to the stadium. I was midway through my first beer when the need arose for a cigarette. Oddly enough (being the nonsmoker that I am) I found a pack that had mysteriously appeared in my pocket (half full) of a brand that if I were a smoker, I would enjoy. I was about to ask for a lighter but again, oddly enough, there was also a lighter in my other pocket. What are the odds?

I was halfway through my cigarette when I realized that it didn’t taste so good. The beer (as was usually the case) tasted delicious, but the cigarette just tasted horribly. Now, if I were a smoker, I would know that sometimes the first one may taste like pooh but then the following ones taste much better. I decided to put that theory on hold for awhile as not only did I not have many in my pack (the person who put it there must have smoked a lot the night before) but I was around other nonsmokers who I try to be courteous of – if I do have the occasional one.

After I began my second beer, I decided that I’d get up and have another smoke. Unfortunately, this one also tasted like pooh. Not having many on hand to last through the evening though, I proceeded to choke the rest of it down hoping that maybe it would quench my desire for nicotine for the evening. It lasted awhile, but not long enough.

After my buddies Jeff and Terry met me at Shannon’s, I finished my third beer, paid the bartender (who was SO checking me out – yes, it was a girl), and we walked over to the stadium with Chris and Sarah who were also at the game bur not as part of the Ralcorp group. On the way over, I made several remarks about being able to see Chris and Sarah from our “free beer” seats, but I really don’t think they cared. Most of my jokes turn out that way but I keep making them anyway. Yes, I’m that guy.

On the walk over, though, I still wasn’t feeling right. Ever since I stood up after my first cigarette I had a buzzing in my head and uneasiness in my stomach. But, I figured we were on our way to the stadium and once I conducted some business regarding Jeff, I would dive into the free beer that I missed out on last year and have a great time with my buddies and my co-workers.

Like the prior year, we walked into our section, got some beer, picked out our seats, and then hit the buffet. It was the same delicious spread as last year but, heeding the advice about eating too much, I only got one cookie, one brownie, one hot dog, one beef brisket sandwich and no nachos. That’s it. I assumed that as the little 8 oz beauties were imbibed throughout the night that I would need to take another trip up there eventually, but for now one trip was good and I could begin my evening.

I had gotten through the sandwich, the hot dog, and the beer and quickly realized that I was full. I didn’t even touch the cookie or the brownie. Good. Soon the food will settle and I could start drinking the second beer that I had in front of me. I took a quick drink to wash the food down and then realized that I felt odd. I knew this feeling. It was a bad feeling that was telling me that getting this beer down was going to be a struggle. This free beer was once again posing a challenge to me but this time I was going to face it head on.

In order to loosen our bellies Jeff, Terry, and I went downstairs to have an after dinner cigarette and to walk around a little. The walking was great and I actually became quite thirsty. At numerous points we passed different beer vendors who were hawking that tasty brew and I momentarily considered buying one, but then realized that I have all of the free beer that I want upstairs on the Coca Cola patio. I could wait. The cigarette once again tasted like crap and I decided that I was done even trying for the night. No more smokes. I think I waited one cigarette too late though.

When we got back to our seats after visiting Terry’s parents who were also at the game, I sat down and noticed my still half full beer staring me in the face. Realizing that it was probably pretty warm but also aware that if I didn’t finish this one I couldn’t get another (one cup per person), I attempted to down the 4 ozs I had left and go get another.

I couldn’t do it.

Something about that free beer just wouldn’t allow me to drink it. It was perfectly good beer and God knows I like beer, but I’m assuming I must be allergic to it or something. After feeling not so good at the start of the third inning and then feeling REALLY not so good after the top of the seventh, we decided that we’d go back to Bellevegas, feed our addiction at Jeff’s house (MLB the Show 2010), and I’d take some Tums to soothe my stomach. Outside the stadium I bummed a cigarette off of Jeff thinking that maybe mine just tasted bunk and we headed in separate directions to our respective parking garages. As I lit up the bummed cigarette I realized that it wasn’t just my cigarettes at all – this one too tasted like pooh. As I got closer to my car I realized that not only did this one taste horrible, but it was also stronger than the brand that magically appeared in my pocket earlier in the evening. As a result I threw the cigarette down (in an appropriate receptacle, of course), unlocked my car, opened the door, got in, leaned out the door, and horked all over the ground. Not pretty.

Once I was done (and I had found a warm bottle of soda that had been sitting in my cup holder for a few days to rinse out my mouth), I immediately called Jeff to let him know what I had just done and that I would NOT be coming over. I then called Carol, told her I was coming home, and did just that.

I woke up this morning feeling slightly better, but still a little down knowing that my damn allergies to that free beer had acted up again and made me sick. I’m not sure what it is as I definitely don’t have an aversion to draft beer. Maybe it’s the plastic cups that they hand out. Maybe I’m having an adverse reaction to the “free beer” wristband that they give you upon entrance to the patio. Either way, I need to figure this out because this will NOT happen again next year. By process of elimination I know it’s neither the amount of food because I had much less this year, nor is it the smoking as I happened to have a pack magically appear in my pocket last year as well and they tasted fine at the time. The only common denominator between the past two years has been that free beer. That damn free beer. Maybe I’ll have to go see a doctor or something.

Maybe I’ll also have to call the parking garage because while pulling in this morning, I saw my “reaction” to last night’s allergic episode still sitting in a pile on the ground. They better get that cleaned up soon because it’s going to be hot today.

Thanks for reading.