Good Beer Hunting

no. 444


This garbage can probably doesn’t mean anything to you. Just a little while ago, it didn’t mean anything to me, either. But now, it’s everything. An oasis in the middle of the Sahara. A life preserver in the middle of the Atlantic.

The time is 11:34pm and I’ve been up for something like 21 hours. In that time, I’ve been in three airports, three conference rooms, two airplanes, one Lyft, one tram, one rental car, and one golf cart (nope, I don’t play). I’ve gotten my steps in almost twice over.

Just out of frame is a TV. It’s not a good TV. It’s small and decidedly un-HD and the picture doesn’t even fill the screen and it actually kinda sounds like somebody’s holding an iPhone up to a bullhorn in a wind tunnel. But the first game of the World Series is on and that I’m seeing it at all is a miracle.

To make matters worse, I’m in a hotel that has no bar, mini or otherwise. I’m miles from anything that could even be considered a watering hole. Of course there’s no refrigerator.

But there is a gas station down the road that sells pounders of Two Hearted. And there’s an ice maker down the hall that pretty much functions as it should. And as a guy named Mick once said, if you try sometimes, you get what you need.

Words + Photo
by Kyle Kastranec