I’ve been brewing beer since 2001, with pretty good results. Sometimes terrific results, and occasionally less so (like the carboy that exploded when the babysitter was here), but overall, I like to brew and I definitely like to drink beer…it’s my hobby. It’s a fun science project in the kitchen. Somehow I manage to be female as well.
A couple of years ago, we were invited to my sister in law’s house for Easter. My brother-in-law’s brother-in-law (technically my husband’s sister’s husband’s sister’s husband), a super nerdy guy and not in an endearing way, was poking around the big iced beer tub on the kitchen counter. We’ll call him Jeff, because that is his name.
I happened to be standing nearby while he perused the available bottles, and came to the large brown one with no label.
Jeff: “Do you know what this is?”
Me: “Oh, I brought that. It’s one of my home brews.”
Jeff, tilting down chin and using the tone one uses with a fibbing 3-year-old: “Lisa. Did YOU brew the beer, or did TED brew the beer?”
Me (in my head): “Fuck you. Fuck you and your whole family. Your stupid, born-again, dumpy wife, and your freakishly undersized, ultra-blond, children-of-the-corn offspring. And by the way, no one else has worn a pager since 1997. The network will survive without you.”
Me (out loud): “Yes, Jeff. I made the beer.”
But since then, despite being exceptionally irritated at the time, I’ve gotten so much mileage out of telling that story that it was totally worth it.