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A hearty "Jambo!" to you.

These are my musings and recommendations. I write about everything. Enjoy your stay.

Listen Up: I Like Having Four Or Five Different Beverages In Front Of Me At Brunch And That Isn't A Crime

Listen Up: I Like Having Four Or Five Different Beverages In Front Of Me At Brunch And That Isn't A Crime

Brunch is a young man’s game. It’s an activity reserved for those of you lucky enough to still be in their early-20s. Unfortunately my days of brunching are long gone. I just don’t have the motor that I once did, and the Saturday or Sunday morning brunch completely derails any chance of me being productive. I prefer to ease my way into Saturday, and chances are high that if you’re reading right now you do too. <i>Sidenote: Special shout to all of the early morning SMBB readers out there.</i>

There are just so many other things I’d rather do with my time than attend a brunch, and frankly I don’t find the food that is offered on brunch menus to be all that appetizing. 

If I’m at a restaurant and it’s past 10:30 a.m., I want to look at a lunch menu, not a brunch menu.  I don’t want breakfast inspired burgers and I don’t want chicken tenders that come with waffles. Just show me the lunch menu and let’s be done with it because I much prefer that to breakfast food. I hate that we’ve put brunch up on this pedestal as something that sophisticated people do on the weekends when in reality it’s just kids fresh out of college getting drunk off of their asses. And let’s not forget another important fact - you can cook up a simple, two-egg and toast breakfast at your place for a fraction of the cost. 

With that rant over and done with, let me bring it back for the people reading this who absolutely adore brunch. There’s a time and a place for it, okay? I can’t and won’t sit here and tell you that brunch isn’t fun. Because it’s a lot of fucking fun when it’s done right.  

I’ll still go to a boozy brunch every now and again to relive the glory days and remind myself that I can’t drink like that anymore. And when I do decide to do a brunch, I do it all the way. I get an outrageous menu item like french toast filled with warm glaze and some ice cream on the side. I get drunk. I may even take an adderall if it’s presented to me. The point I’m trying to get across is that I make the most of my time. 

If you see me at a brunch at my age, just know that I’m absolutely there to fuck around and make a complete ass of myself because this kind of thing does not happen very often anymore. 

The last time I went to a brunch I started off with the standard coffee and water order. The second time the waitress came around, I ordered a bloody mary and a glass of grapefruit juice. The third time she came around to take everyone’s food order, I told her what I wanted, then I asked for something that, from what I am told, is not a big thing outside of the midwest. I’m speaking about something I call a beerback. 

The official name of this mini beer that you can order alongside a bloody mary is called a snit, but that name sucks and I like beerback more. A little bit about the beerback before I continue - one of the greatest things to ever happen to me was discovering that companies make mini beers exclusively designed to sit alongside a bloody mary. I mean, what an incredible thing. Booze to go along with your booze. Anyways, by the time the beerback got back to me, my entire side of the table was chalk full of drinks that I had ordered. 

I consolidated them, of course, so as not to be rude to my friends sitting on either side of me, but by that point the rest of the table was already going in on me. I was getting thrown in the frying pan for ordering too many drinks. 

“You serious with all these drinks?”

“No way you drink all of those.” 

“Duda...goddamnit.”

I can understand where they were coming from. Real estate is a precious commodity when dining out, and everyone is entitled to their own little slab of the table. What bugged me is that they weren’t doing the same as I was. Each beverage I had ordered served a specific purpose, and I drank every single one of them with a smile on my face. One to quench thirst, one to get me caffeinated, one purely to let my tastebuds have an orgaasm (grapefruit juice), and two to get me drunk. It’s not so absurd when you really think about it. If you’re attending a brunch this coming weekend, make it a five beverage affair and tell the naysayers to kiss your hydrated ass.

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