Aw, Man, It's the Octoberfest

I come as the bearer of sad news.

Reliable sources have informed me that many liquor stores are now featuring Sam Adams Octoberfest instead of Summer Ale.

This is, of course, devastating news. A glance at the thermometer on a day like today will reveal that the mercury still sits at upwards of 80 degrees.

Furthermore, I find it hard to believe that we are done with grilling season. Food cooked outdoors is scientifically proven to be better than food cooked indoors. Not to mention, my skills as a cook decrease exponentially (or whatever the opposite of exponentially is, if I have malapropped the math) once you put a roof over the cooking space.

If my estimates are correct, there are still at least a dozen opportunities to set meat on fire in a controlled setting over the next handful of weeks. The fact that we must now do this without the fuel provided by what, for all accounts and purposes, is the east coast's best outdoors beer saddens me.

Octoberfest, you are a good beer. But you are exactly like Last Call. Yes, you perform essential functions and, in the end, it's probably a good thing that we have you. It sucks to work at a bar in a place where there is no last call and the drunks just won't leave. And it's good to get them home, since, at times, it's time to go home. The bottom line is, you tend save everyone from themselves. That's your purpose.

But man, oh man, do we hate you. Do you hear the collective groan everywhere around you? It's because you just flicked the lights on and off to let us know the party is almost over. And, because of that, you will get our contempt.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to the bar and commence the hoarding process before they shut this thing down.