Mrmyke709
1,000+ Posts
I was in Southeastern Missouri for my grandmother's funeral last week. We all planned on a proper wake, so we stopped to get alcohol. To my surprise, the local liquor store had O'Dell's 90 Shilling Scotch Ale from Colorado. I bought every six-pack he had. I also found some Boulevard Brewing IPA and wheat beer. Good stuff outta Kansas City. My beer cup runneth over.
Fast forward to Sunday.
I stopped for lunch to unwind after the drive across Arkansas. It seemed like every small town had damage from the fierce storms on Saturday. After an excellent slice of pizza and a couple of pints of fine ale at Vino's Brewpub in Little Rock, I realize with horror that my flight was leaving in 35 minutes. And I am downtown. I have a case of beer that I still need to fit in my checked bag.
I ran to the car and stuffed everything in my bag. Proper technique involves padding the impact zones with clothes. Miraculously, it all fit.
I careened down the freeway to the airport at 85 MPH...no easy feat in an underpowered Chrysler PT Cruiser. It reeked of Axe body spray..but when you are driving a PT Cruiser that reeks of Axe body spray in Doniphan, Missouri, you are a veritable god to the chicks. All I needed was a mullet and some bling.
I pulled into the rental car check-in with scant minutes to spare.
I had already checked in online, so I ran the gauntlet of security after checking the beer bag. It went about 65 pounds.
As I hauled *** down the concourse, I heard the ominous words..."Final boarding call for Flight 59 to Austin at Gate 15"...and I am at Gate 3 at full OJ sprint.
I hit the gate in the nick of time and get to the last seat on the plane.
It's quite possible that my beer bag would follow me, but there were no more flights to Austin that night, so if it missed getting loaded my beer would be in the hands of cretins.
After an uneventful layover in Dallas, I am wearily sitting on the tarmac at Austin observing the baggage handlers, when to my happiness, my bag comes down the conveyor.
I awaited my beverages at the baggage carousel, and there it was...one whiff of my bag told me disaster had struck. The unpressurized cargo hold was brutal to my scotch ale. Every bottle had lost a third of its contents all over my clothing.
As I surveyed the damage, it wasn't a total loss. A sixer of O'Dell Easy Wheat survived, as did both sixers of Boulevard beer.
I sat in my driveway after the end of a long week, and consoled myself by finishing off the partial bottles of 90 Shilling, enjoying the cool night air of Texas.
It's good to be home.
Fast forward to Sunday.
I stopped for lunch to unwind after the drive across Arkansas. It seemed like every small town had damage from the fierce storms on Saturday. After an excellent slice of pizza and a couple of pints of fine ale at Vino's Brewpub in Little Rock, I realize with horror that my flight was leaving in 35 minutes. And I am downtown. I have a case of beer that I still need to fit in my checked bag.
I ran to the car and stuffed everything in my bag. Proper technique involves padding the impact zones with clothes. Miraculously, it all fit.
I careened down the freeway to the airport at 85 MPH...no easy feat in an underpowered Chrysler PT Cruiser. It reeked of Axe body spray..but when you are driving a PT Cruiser that reeks of Axe body spray in Doniphan, Missouri, you are a veritable god to the chicks. All I needed was a mullet and some bling.
I pulled into the rental car check-in with scant minutes to spare.
I had already checked in online, so I ran the gauntlet of security after checking the beer bag. It went about 65 pounds.
As I hauled *** down the concourse, I heard the ominous words..."Final boarding call for Flight 59 to Austin at Gate 15"...and I am at Gate 3 at full OJ sprint.
I hit the gate in the nick of time and get to the last seat on the plane.
It's quite possible that my beer bag would follow me, but there were no more flights to Austin that night, so if it missed getting loaded my beer would be in the hands of cretins.
After an uneventful layover in Dallas, I am wearily sitting on the tarmac at Austin observing the baggage handlers, when to my happiness, my bag comes down the conveyor.
I awaited my beverages at the baggage carousel, and there it was...one whiff of my bag told me disaster had struck. The unpressurized cargo hold was brutal to my scotch ale. Every bottle had lost a third of its contents all over my clothing.
As I surveyed the damage, it wasn't a total loss. A sixer of O'Dell Easy Wheat survived, as did both sixers of Boulevard beer.
I sat in my driveway after the end of a long week, and consoled myself by finishing off the partial bottles of 90 Shilling, enjoying the cool night air of Texas.
It's good to be home.
