|Something Cold in a Brown Paper Bag|
The FHHR run-up started Thursday night with this email from one of the DBs:
"Speaking of beer, I was sitting in traffic at Chelsea's Tavern an hour ago and I think MO7S's old girlfriend came stumbling out the front door, dropping f-bombs with every misplaced step. Gem. Inside I could see a guy in a wheelchair running over some dude's work boots. I really wanted to stop in..."
...like the bad choice I made trying to rail a turn in my haste to get to The Overlook for the HH part of FHHR. Ran wide, front tire washed out, and my knees got a little dirty (and later that day asymmetrical).
But within minutes we were into the HH part of the afternoon and the knees were forgotten (for a while) as the conversation ranged far and wide, from merits of boiling versus finishing hops in an IPA, to Fox versus Reba suspension forks, and finally to breeding stock and Ron Jeremy.
Another bang-up happy hour, in more ways than one.
"Keep the rubber side down"