The Legend of Beer Jesus

Last night, Mark Houston, Jahn Parker and myself went out on an excursion in Hampton.  Are antics eventually led us to a pub fittingly named 'The Pub'.  The bar was full of the type of people who sit at a bar, so our little crew got a table and settled in.  Jahn pointed out that there was a plethera of pretty girls working there and Mark pointed out that all the men who worked there were wearing kilts.  I pointed a person with a mullet wearing a full camoflauge outfit.  Out of all the people working there, one of the guys in a kilt walked by our table and told us he'd 'be with us in a second'.  Out of all the women working in 'The Pub', we'd been given a male waiter.  Mark cursed the fates at our luck.  We did not know however that we were about to encounter, Beer Jesus.

One of the waitresses walked by our table that Mark was especially fond of.  He asked her where her section of tables were.  She pointed to the far side of the room.  Then he asked her something along the lines of, "If we were to get up, leave, come back in and sit at one of those tables over there, would you be our waitress?"  To which she replied, "If you came like ten minutes ago.  I work tomorrow though.  In the midst of this, the guy in the kilt came up to serve our table.  Doing his damndest to avoid any and all forms of cockblockerry, he rolled off like an NFL running back and kept walking.  This was the moment we knew he was a champion.  After the waitress went about her dealings, the guy in the kilt came back to our table.  He threw down three beer menus.  On the cover of each it read "The Beer Bible".  No fucking lie.  He opened up the closest one like he was parting the Red Ale Sea and began to explain what went on to be the most excellent of beers.  You have to understand.  He explained these beers so well, that even though Mark and I were hellbent on Red Stripe, it was no longer even an option by the end of his sermon.  And so, Beer Jesus was born.

Mark got Smithwicks (pronounced shmid-ticks) and I got a Kronenbourg 1664.  I tried some of Mark's and may I just say, those were two of the best beers I've ever had in my life.  Kronenbourg 1664 immediately became one of my favorites (up with Dos Equis and Sapporo).  It was like a pillow in a glass.  It was like the heavens smiling down on me and bathing me in their glow.  Jahn tried both and was equally struck.  Not by the epic nature of Beer Jesus.  Not by the sheer skill to which the Beer Bible was presented.  Not even by the pure deliciousness of the beers.  But by the event as a whole.  If you ever go to 'The Pub' in Hampton, pray my friends.  Pray, that you get a cool muthafuckin' waiter in a kilt.  That he brings his beer bible down from on high like the Ten Commandmants.  This is a tribute to Jason Duke aka, Beer Jesus.

See ya Space Cowboys...

Disclaimer.  This is in no way meant to disrespect the real Jesus for I am a strong believer in GOD myself.  It is only a metaphor for Jason Duke's pure, unbridled awesomness.

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