Howdy Rantlister people! Frosty Mugg here, famous writer, respected drinker, and beloved AJnet Magazine personality. You may remember me from such important journalistic works as everything I ever wrote for AJnet Magazine, which you should go read right now at AngryJerk.net. Open it in another tab so you can keep reading this too. AJ says that is called “cross-promotion.” I call it doing you people a favor.
Anyway, I was at Yellowz Bar and Grill the other night enjoying a well-earned beer after a long day of doing whatever it was I did that day. I don’t remember. It must have been exhausting though, because I was thirsty.
I waved over Barty the Bartender and ordered another beer.
“My name is Mike,” Barty said.
“Great story, Barty. Beer me.”
A few moments later, he placed a perfectly good beer in front of me. Or at least it would have been perfectly good if he hadn’t poured it into a room-temperature glass!
I touched the side of it and immediately pulled my hand away in disgust. Not because it was hot. It wasn’t. That was the problem. It was just sitting there at the temperature of the room like some kind of window or chair. Beer glasses shouldn’t feel like furniture!
I asked Barty where the frosted mugs were.
“We don’t frost the glasses,” he said. “It can make the beer foam too much.”
That sounded like quitter talk to me.
The whole point of a mug was to keep the beer cold. That was why they called it a frosty mug. They didn’t call it a mildly cool mug. They didn’t call it a glass that had recently been near an air conditioner. They called it frosty because it was supposed to have frost on it.
Also, my name was Frosty Mugg, so I believed I had some professional authority on the subject. Nobody asked a dentist whether a horse needed shoes. You asked the horse guy. In this situation, I was the horse guy, except for beer mugs.
That comparison may not have made sense. I had already finished the beer by then.
I demanded that Barty put my next glass in the freezer. He refused because apparently bars had “procedures” and “limited freezer space” and “health codes.” Health codes were always ruining everything. You never heard anybody say, “Thank God the health code stopped me from having a good time!”
Actually, people probably said that after food poisoning. That had nothing to do with beer glasses though.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. While Barty was helping another customer, I grabbed an empty mug, walked into the kitchen, and put it in the freezer myself.
That was when the cook started yelling.
Then Barty started yelling.
Then a waitress yelled because I had apparently knocked over a tray of wings while backing out of the kitchen.
Everyone was being very dramatic about it. The mug was in the freezer. The system worked.
Unfortunately, Barty threw me out before the glass had enough time to frost. He said I was banned until I learned how to act like a normal person, which meant I was probably banned forever.
So now I’m taking my business somewhere that respects the sacred bond between a man, his beer, and a properly chilled drinking vessel.
And while I search for that place, you should all visit AJnet Magazine at AngryJerk.net, home of my articles, Fight Night, Dear Juan, and other things that aren’t as good as my articles but are still worth reading. Tell them Frosty sent you. AJ will know what that means.
The moral of the story was simple: If the mug ain’t frosty, neither am I.
