Friday, August 6, 2010

in the drink

Someday I still might write about the volunteer/career issue, but I'm not feeling politically daredevilish enough to tackle it today.

You'd think we would all get along fine. You know, one big, happy fire/rescue brotherhood, with volunteer and career guys and gals all hanging out together playing Yahtzee and drinking root beer. Except that I don't know anyone that plays Yahtzee, and I may be the only firefighter in North America that likes root beer.

Speaking of root beer, why can't you order one at a bar? Or maybe you can, but folks in "the know" tell me it would be uncool to try. Even an alcohol-challenged guy like me goes to the bar once in a while with his friends (volunteer, career, and hybrid all in the same bar . . . but I digress). I even order a drink while I'm there. It just isn't a real drink like real firefighters order (I know, that was my theme last post). But if I'm going to order a non-real drink at a bar, you'd think I should be able to order any non-real drink I want. Except that I'm told that Coke or Pepsi are the only non-real drinks that are appropriate at a bar, along with those really non-real clear soft drinks like 7-up, Sprite, and ginger ale. But not root beer.

I say it's unfair. The words "root" and "beer" are similar to "ginger" and "ale." Ginger is a root, and ale is beer. I suspect discrimination based on colour, and I would refer it to the Ethics Commission for Equality of Drinks, except there isn't one. Yet another important matter for me to fix when I'm King of the World. For now, I'll just have to order Coke and hope everyone thinks it has rum in it.

While I'm on the topic of barroom etiquette, how do you know when to order Coke and when to order Pepsi? Those of you that are alcohol educated must know what I mean. The cool guys walk up to the bar and intuitively know whether it's a Pepsi or Coke establishment. Me? I order a Pepsi, and the waitress looks at me like I ordered a Whopper at MacDonalds. "Sorry sir, this is a Coke establishment." If it weren't for the fact that I was with real firefighters ordering real drinks, the bouncers would be on me like cops in a crack house. But my friends wave them off and say something like, "he's from Upsala," which explains everything.

I guess Coke and Pepsi get along about as well as career and volunteer firefighters. I really am going to have to write about that someday . . .

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