The Glass Is Half Empty

Lured by the promise of a free commemorative Guinness pub glass I dropped by Keegan's Irish Pub o'er in Nordeast Minneapolis last Friday night to participate in the great Guinness toast. People from all over the world (excepting I would imagine France) raised their pints of Guinness in a symbol of unity and goodwill. Actually it more of a gesture of "this beer good, me drink more," but it still was an awe inspiring moment and I swear I saw a tear of unadulterated joy forming in Saint Paul's eye. Of course he was probably just happy that the lousy band had ceased playing during the toast and given us all a moment of peace.

Unfortunately, there were no Guinness glasses to be had. We were told that a snowstorm in Indianapolis had delayed the truck which was apparently operating on a JIT delivery system. But we were given vouchers that could be redeemed on Tuesday night when we would also be able to receive the second commemorative glass in the series. Although we were a bit skeptical that the evening's events had all been an elaborate plot contrived by ol' man Keegan in an effort to lure us back to the bar on Tuesday, we accepted our fate and agreed to return then to pick up our booty.

Last night I arrived, voucher in hand, ready to commence with the free glass bonanza that would shortly come my way. This time I was just a bit late as all of the second edition of glasses had already been handed out. But my voucher was honored and I was able to pick up the glass that was rightfully due me from Friday. Although I had been expecting two glasses at least I now had one in my possession and all was right with my world.

Tuesday's are trivia nights at the bar and Saint Paul and myself teamed up to claim second place in the contest, thoroughly thrashing the cabal lead by J.B. Doubtless in the process. We each received a coupon for a free drink as a result of our achievement, providing a nice cap for the evening.

In my car on the way home I pondered the long and arduous road I had to travel to earn my pub glass. The beers I had to drink. The trivia questions I had to answer. The crappy music I had to listen to. But it had all been worth it. For this moment. Just me and my glass....

My glass! F***! My glass was sitting on the table back at the bar. All that for nothing.

I guess there's always next Tuesday...