I have been substitute teaching all week.  This means getting up at 6:30am to yell at pre-teens all day.  It goes without saying I get real tired, and can’t get drunk due to these things called “hangovers.”  Finally today I get my chance!  There is a teacher day tomorrow so I know I won’t be randomly called in at 6:00am.  Alright so, let’s leave out what I had to drink before the events of this story that JUST transpired.  Because it does not matter, because I drink so freaking slowly that I just get tired and not drunk.

OKay so here is my story to you dear readers:

So I wanted more beer, but not the Sierra Extra IPA I bought last week (I don’t know why at the time when I bought the beer that I thought “Citrus and pine” sounded good on a label for anything other than Pine-Sol).  My dad was at our cape house this weekend, and brought back with him a growler mug of Cape Cod beer that I had bought when I was last out there a month ago.  Obvis, to keep the party of one going, I wanted to indulge in this beer versus the alcoholic Pine-Sol. Alright, so let’s just open it on up. (Annnnnnd that is what she said.)  Huh, hand strength not working so much, nope not the recessive left one either…okay so hands are apparently not going to be such useful tools in my quest for alcohol.  So I take out a lobster cracker, useful for opening many a nail-polish bottle and several other jars of my past.  I tried a couple times to get a good enough grasp to twist the cap.  Finally I hear some carbonation escaping, signaling to me that it is loosening up.  But this is where the action stops.  I keep trying to loosen it more (to the point of openness) to no avail.  To make sure I’m not crazy I think to myself, “Left loosey, righty tighty.” And indeed I am following this law.  BUT IT IS NOT WORKING.  So I take the growler into our dining room, just off our kitchen, and I sit down on the carpet, put the beer between my thighs, and am trying to use BOTH hands to get a grasp on the lobster cracker to tighten around the cap and also turn it.  I keep trying and trying, my hands are starting to hurt, so I take a break, and contemplate giving up, but no, this is beyond beer at this point.  This is a matter of testosterone.  

Of course my mom is in the next room and hears my commotion.  At this point, I explain to her the impossibility of the situation and tell her, “By now, it’s not about the beer, it’s about opening the damn thing. It’s a matter of principle.”  I go into the living room to show her how it’s just ridiculous.  I give the growler to her and the lobster cracker.  I see her twisting the lid.  I hear a bit more promising carbonation escaping.  Then more.  Then she’s opened the damn thing, with nothing but her BARE HANDS! WHAT! the fuck.

To be fair…I did loosen it…..