Beer Run

On Saturday, my good buddies from undergrad came in town for the night so we could have some drinking bonding time.  In anticipation of their arrival, I decided to pick up a couple 6-packs so we could get things started off on the right foot.  I went to the nearest grocery store.  No beer.  This did not phase me because the grocery store nearest me is teeny and they often don't have things a full-size store would have.  I headed to a bigger chain about 4 miles up the road.  On the way, I passed a 7-11 so I stopped there.  No beer.  I thought this strange (and frustrating) but kept towards the grocery store.  Before I got there, I passed a Wine & Spirits store so I stopped.  No beer.  Ironically, all they have are both wines and spirits.  I hope you can see where this is going because there was no beer at the big grocery store either.  That's four stops and still no beer.  I could not help thinking that I now really needed a beer.  I called my friend Ashleigh, a native Pennsylvanian and very politely asked her to explain:

"Where the hell is the beer in your God-forsaken state?"

I learned that you can only buy beer at a beer distributor.  Honestly?  I drove back to the Wine & Spirits store and asked them where the nearest beer distributor was.  About 4 miles back in the direction from which I had just come.  FINE.  I found it.  They only had cases, no 6-packs

Ashleigh?  "You can only get 6-packs at a 6-pack store.  You get cases at the beer distributor."

WTF, Pennsylvania??  I mean, say what you want about the South, but where I come from you can walk into any gas station or grocery store and buy yourself a 6-pack.  Hell, back home, you can pretty much walk into a toy store and get yourself a beer.  That's the American way. 

So let's recap the wisdom of this policy, Pennsylvania.  In your efforts to restrict my beer consumption, I had to buy four times as much beer as I wanted which I then wanted desperately to drink four times as badly.  I really do not know what is more shocking - this ass-backwards system or the fact that I have apparently lived here for over two years without once buying my own beer. 

As for the rest of the night, I will spare you the details on the off-chance that a future employer or someone important to my future ever comes across this blog. 

But in sum, it went down like this:
Phase 1 - FUN!
Phase 2 - I do not remember.
Phase 3 - I'm told it was sloppy.
Phase 4 - Recovery.  Ouch.

You really can't drink like an undergrad when you're not one anymore.  Which is a shame because I still have the better part of a case of beer in my fridge.  Way to save me from myself, Pennsylvania.