Friday, November 25, 2011
Beer Caps, Bathtubs and Bottle Rockets
"Oh," I set the brake on the beverage cart and glance at my co-worker, "why's that?"
"Well," he says, "I got a call from my best friend. He said his wife wasn't happy with him and she really wasn't happy with me, and maybe I shouldn't come to their house for awhile."
"Uh huh." His expression is so comical, I start to snicker. "So, what'd you do?"
"Well, we made beer, and we figured if we we're going to all the trouble to make beer, that we should up the alcohol content." He locks the last galley compartment and settles into his jumpseat.
I've read about hops and oast houses, but never about the actual process. "So ... how?" I ask.
"Basically," he claps a hand under his chin and rolls his eyes toward the overhead, "basically, you add more yeast. Lots of yeast."
"Yep. We stored dozens of bottles in my friend's spare bathroom." He bobs his head. "Thing is, the bathtub wasn't as safe as we'd thought. When the beer exploded, beer caps shot into the ceiling drywall and beer pretty much flooded every surface in the room." His eyes close and he smiles.
When I stop laughing, he continues. "Ever try to get the smell of beer out of drywall?" I snort and shake my head. "How about, grout, ceramic tile or backer board?"
"Stay away from my husband." I splutter, making a mental note to scratch the beer kit from my holiday shopping list.
"My buddy worked for a paint supplier, but he had to ask the experts in the industrial side of operations for help." His lips twitch. "We had to coat the entire bathroom in industral grade sealant." He snorts and gets to his feet.
Wait, that's not always compatable. "But, what if ?"
"Yep," he sighs, "normal house paint is no longer an option."
Normality, I think, is just wishful thinking for women.