A Summer near Westcity -- v2 -- 1by @abrahamKim PATRON | 477 words | 🐣 | 463💌
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Now that my friends have left for summer, I've returned to drinking Busch Light. Around them, the experience is un-enjoyable. Not that I'm self conscious about my taste in beer, but it just doesn't taste as good with one of them always remarking something along the lines of how do you even drink that.
Sometime at the beginning of sophomore year, the default drink became Pabst Blue Ribbon. Just as cheap as Busch Light, -- maybe a couple cents higher per 30 pack -- but a lot better. It didn't taste just like diluted carbonated bread. There was a taste of stinging metal in there. Plus, PBR was ingested by a more diverse patchwork of people: Hipsters, rednecks, professors, young professionals, and anyone else I can't think of right now. It gave me more pride to pledge allegiance to that network that that of the Busch Light network.
Busch Light was what you drank in a small town like I'm from. And when I first got to college, it was drunk by the other kids hailing from similar noname towns. There's a heirarchy amongst us coming from these places. Busch Light is the lowest you can go while still retaining dignity, although you've forfeited all pride. The more upper echelon people, the ones who own boats and larger houses in the woods, they would drink either Coors Light or Bud Light. And so that same values-system trickled down to us kids.
If it was just us drinking in the dorms, doing nothing festive, or if we had to supply beer for a large amount of people we went with Busch Light. But when we were doing something special, like tailgating for a game, then guys like me would invest into something a little fancier. Bud or Coors Light. One time, I asked my suitemate why he never drank regular Budweiser or Coors, and he immediately proclaimed that Coors Banquet is the best god damn beer ever. A couple weeks later, I was able to get a buyer who'd purchase a 12 pack of Coors Banquet, all in heavy glass bottles. I shared it with my suitemate who thanked me as graciously as he could. And then I remember watching him take his first rejoicing gulp. I watched his adams apple move up and down. Up and down while drinking the best goddamn beer ever.
Busch Light, though was drunk by poor people. Stereotypically they were people who worked with their hands. And often they were drinking Busch Light all the time, no matter the time of day. I'd often go to my friend's house, and it could be 2 PM and his dad would still be drinking Busch Light. When that friend and I decided that we ought to start drinking as well, we began with Busch Light.