“The Weirdest Thing Happened…”

So, I’m drinking a cold Old Speckled Hen with my grilled hot dog on a butter toasted bun with baked beans, cole slaw, potato chips and a Kosher pickle. The taste is great. Reminds me of the one cold beer my dad allowed me after I mowed the lawn on a hot summer day. Carling Black Label popped into my thoughts. Gosh, I haven’t even remotely thought of that string of words for what seems an eternity.

I think of Elizabeth and Remember that Richard mentioned it was one of her favorites. A “girl” who enjoys drinking beer. How cool is that?

The beer is delicious. Not too light, not too heavy and with the perfect amount of slight bitterness in the finish.

But something is not quite right. Something is rattling the Karma here. Is it conflicting with my gourmet lunch? No. Is there a flavor of one that doesn’t like the other? No. Is it served at the right temperature? I think so.

No, the trouble has something to do with balance. Not in the palate but in the physical weight. Were ergonomic designs NOT applied to the can itself? It was just a cylindrical design like all other beer cans. Something felt funny. Something was just not right. Out of kilter. Screwing up the Feng Shui. Whatever it was really bothered me – but I didn’t know what IT was…

I had that strange, nasty sensation of a cigarette butt bobbing around in a beer can I just picked up. Was something, in fact, floating in my ale? The more I drank from the can, the stronger the bobbing sensation. My enjoyment of the beer itself was draining away. YES! There was something IN MY BEER CAN!

Now, I was definitely not enjoying my lunch brew. My appetite was waning just as fast. Probably the thoughts of fingers floating around in Wendy’s Chili…

TIMES UNION: “Man Finds Decapitated Goat Testicle in Beer Can”

or

“Georgia Man Winner of Mega Million PowerBall Secretly Stashed in Beer Can”

maybe….

“Brewery Sued Over Mothball Swallowed by Unsuspecting Beer Drinker; His Widow to Ask for $40 Million.”

OK, time for an emergency C Section on a beer can. I grabbed a knife and nervously sawed away to find out WHAT had invaded my beer. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. I just really did NOT want to end up puking all over the place if it was something really disgusting.

A large, white plastic sphere rolled out into the sink. It was the size of a large jawbreaker.

Whatthefuckisthis?

I contemplate the plastic ball. This is a sorry excuse for a joke if it is SUPPOSED to be in the beer can. I mean, “Old Speckled Hen”….Is it supposed to be an egg? It’s not even egg-shaped, for heavens sake!

So, my question is this, Richard & Elizabeth:

Are there supposed to be white plastic balls in cans of Old Speckled Hen?

If not, I have saved the evidence and I have Eddie Farrah’s telephone number close at hand.

How much do you figure mental anguish, a lost appetite and a wasted beer are worth?

My next Old Speckled Hen will be poured into a frosty mug.

This ball’s for you.