NOT Milwaukee's Best

You know those people who are just naturally phenomenal at bar games? They can throw darts blindfolded, effortlessly shoot pool from behind their backs and snap their wrists with precise fervor during a game of foosball. They may or may not be excellent at sports outside of the bar, but once they walk in anyplace with a neon Miller sign in the window, they shine.


I am not one of those people. I never have been, and I'm fairly certain with any amount of practice I never will be. And that's fine with me - I'm happy to stand nearby with a drink in hand as friends throw, shoot or play a round. But last night I was feeling lucky. Last night, I thought, would be the night I finally did not make a fool of myself while playing pool.


Turns out, lady luck was not on my side, after all.

The above is an example of what you don't want the table to look like at the end of the game if you are solids. Yikes.

And to make matters worse, I don't think Eric was playing too seriously the whole night. It could've been a lot uglier, sadly enough.

While goofing around, he coined the "Bazooka shot."

The agony of defeat:

After the massacre (three games in a row), we left Scaffidi's and made our way closer to Brady Street, where we stopped at the Garage for one last beer before heading home. I tend to forget about the Garage, but always enjoy it while we're there. I love the interior, which is lined with small trees and strands of white Christmas lights everywhere. 


Another thing that's fun at the Garage is their $1 "Grab bag." Simply hand over a dollar and they'll give you a brown paper bag with a "mystery can" inside. Given that it's a dollar every time, you always know you're not going to be getting a high-quality beer, but it's kind of fun to open your bag and discover what you'll be choking down for the next 10 minutes.


I'm afraid Eric was the loser at this game, as his mystery beer happened to be Natural Ice. 

And I'm afraid I didn't fair much better, with getting slammed in the face by none other than the city's namesake, the BEAST:

As I'm clearly illustrating here, the name of this beer is not exactly the best representation of the city. And it's fairly misleading to slap "premium" anywhere on that label. In fact, I'm pretty sure every other beer brewed in the city of Milwaukee is morw premium than Milwaukee's Best. By far.

Sigh... 

Though I was humiliated once again by my non-existent pool skills, and forced to gulp down the nasty, nasty Beast, I actually had a good time last night. Low key, full of laughs and home by 10:45. Just the way I like it.