Earlier this week I found myself at a random grocery store in nearby Bellevue. Meaning only to pick up a couple of items, as I browsed the aisles I thought to myself maybe, oh maybe, they'd be carrying the OLD Old Style. Much to my surprise there it was in all its glory! The old Old Style Light.
[Can you say goldmine?]
Having only a few items in my hands I quickly dumped them in the beer cooler and raced to the front of the store for a cart (I needed both hands to run at full speed). I sprinted back, hoping that no one had found my goldmine in the 22 seconds it took for me to grab a cart...and they were still there. I had but one choice: Empty the freakin' shelves.
Moments later, 96 cans of the old Old Style rested peacefully in my trunk.
[Precious cargo.]
Sharing my love of the old Old Style, Piper (have you read her amazing blog?) helped me unload the mother load...and then drink a few, of course! Clearly we had to document this very special moment.
[I was a little bit excited.]
[Reminiscing about the old days.]
[I love you. DON'T LEAVE ME!]
Now two cases reside in my fridge, while the others have been placed in a fire-proof lock box for a special occasion, or perhaps for a very sad moment that calls for liquid coping...like when the last of the first 48 is drained.
[The first 48 in their new home.]
[Produce gets the boot so that Old Style has a safe place in the crisper. Priorities, people.]
Thanks, Pipes, for sharing in my grief and for this brief but miraculous resurrection. Looks like Easter came early this year.
