Lord Of The Pabst

So my friends Lynn and Dylan gave me this coupon for a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.  The distributor apparently was giving them to new orleans refugees and dylan and lynn are one of those people that don’t consider pabst to be beer.
I do tho.
I maps.google.com the distributor, ask the secretary if they are still accepting the coupons, grab my keys and go.
I have to drive to basically the other side of Memphis. The whole journey probably cost me in gas what i’d probably would have spent at the store.  Anyway, I finally get there and the first lady says "oh no this is the wrong building, you gotta go around back".  I go around back, talk to another secretary, she says to go wait in the warehouse.
I go into the warehouse and wait.  and wait.  and wait.  Starting to get a little nervous, i walk farther back into the warehouse and turn this corner to see what can only be described as a city of beer cases.  I almost wept.  Just beer as far as the eye could see.  You could have locked me in that warehouse and told everyone i was dead and i’d be perfectly content.
I hear a voice in my head that says "toad, you should just get your own pabst case by yourself and leave." Then the other voice, "no toad, you should grab a case of something better".  It’s hard to explain to people who think i have no self control, that i actually have self control and use it on a daily basis to battle my shadow.
Anyway, a nice latino american gentlemen brings me 12 pack and drives off on his forklift.  As i’m walking out I notice a trashcan full of beer related advertising stuff.  I look left, look right, and grab something.  It’s not a true toad journey unless something gets stolen.
In retrospect, i should have stayed home, designed a website or two, got paid like $300 for it, bought some expensive whiskey from the store that’s within walking distance.  Oh well, I think it worked out okay.

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