An Engineer, a Geospatial Analyst, and a Programmer walk into a bar.
They proceed to kick ass at trivia night hosted by a bar in the rolling hills above Boulder, Colorado. The first catagory: Science. Of course we dominated our way through the first round. The second- cartoons! Being a table of seasoned nerds, the obscure animated references were no match for our geek squad as our confidence (and blood alcohol levels) rose.
The third topic? Oh, obscure 1920s America of course! Not. In. Our. Fields.Of. Study. At. ALL. Our massive lead, (against a team of teachers many years our senior, no less!) dropped rapidly and unceremoniously. We came out a weary third, but the glorious victory that slipped through our fingers and splattered upon the bar floor was easily brushed aside as we discussed new trivia topic ideas with the loud-mouthed announcer, and second and third drinks made themselves at home in our bloodstreams.
What better to soothe the egos of such a big-headed lot than a trip to Bar #2? A brewery just down the road, with rumors of a beer that tastes like liquid fire, and with the name of a fire breathing pokemon to boot.
The damp, dark night air made way for the deep warmth of wood tables and Edison bulb lighting, populated by a sophisticated clientelle. The menu was tempting and rich, with ABV levels hovering in the 10 point plus range. Two barrel aged stouts drew our eye, and two became five as our inebriated palettes danced with our addled brains.
One in particular, the Burnt Priest, captured my senses as soon as it landed on the table. The love child of a scotch barrel and a plume of smoke, it ensnared what ability I had left to stay sober. It tasted like liquid campfire, of summer and freedom mixed with a maturity that only age can bring. It was both yearning and stoic, or maybe that was me? Either way, it warmed me like the last coals of a dying fire, and I wonder: now that the smoke has lifted, if it was not a very literal metaphor for my thoughts as of late.
I have been plauged by the rains of Spring this year, not so much cleansing as clearing away a protective layer of me. Tonight however was the perfect time to shed such a layer, embraced by friends and a partner who warms my very being.
Computer nerd things were discussed, Memorial Day plans were made, and it all at last felt like home.
Learning to love one place after so many years being anywhere and everywhere else is the epitome of challenge for my wandering soul. Perhaps the alcohol helps dull the parts of us that relentlessly pace between our chest bones? But I am reminded that people do it every day, they come to this place every week and drink these things and it is 'their thing', and if so maybe it can be my thing too.
