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September 16, 2005
I Make Friends with a Homebrewer
"Hi there!"
You need to realize two things before you venture up to the Chattanooga Homebrewers' Club table at the 2005 Southern Brewers Fest. One, the men under the tent have been there all day, and two, they truly do enjoy what they um, brew. The friendly neighborhood brewer across the table from me was a grinning middle-aged man with a pink nose and red-tipped cheeks that matched the tropical flowers strewn across his Hawaiian print shirt. He smiled broadly and silently.
"Hi," I replied. Obviously some conversation needed to occur before I could get some of their precious liquid in my now dry commemorative plastic stein. "How are you doing?"
"Oh, great, great," he effused, still grinning.
"Yeah? What's responsible for that?"
He chortled. I gestured towards their beer list, a large piece of white posterboard with Sharpie-scrawled entries. "Which one of these is yours?"
He beamed and pointed out his IPA and "Skotch" ale. "But that stuff," he told me solemly, pointing to the "Orange Ale," is crazy. You either love it or ya hate it."
"You love it, don't you?"
"Oh yes."
I handed him my cup.
Carefully Dramatized Life Accounts | By elissa | 04:08 PM
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