I've toasted with the high-rollers at Chandler's Steakhouse, and I've commiserated with a bloodshot-eyed ex-prisoner at the Cactus. But unfortunately for me, my request to the bartender du jour has been the same every time: "Bud or Bud Light. If you don't have that on tap, then Coors or Coors Light. Not even a PBR? Then give me the lightest, coldest lager you can tap."
Boring selection, right? My husband, who has joined me on my adventures, describes said beers as being kind of like making love in a canoe (they're both fucking close to water). But that's the assignment and I've been sticking to it. Thus, it was with great surprise that I read in today's Wall Street Journal that the biggest brands of light beer sales are experiencing a terrible slump. If you have five extra minutes today, Eric Felten's opinion piece on the matter is worth a read.
And since it's evident that my own consumption of light beers last month didn't bump up the profits, I'm giving it up. From now on, it's all loca-micro-tasty-beer all the time.