I know it has been only 11 weeks thus far into my experiment. Even though it is a mere fraction of what lies ahead, I have been noticing some subtle trends. Most importantly, most of my friends have been very supportive in this undertaking of mine. So thank you all, it would have been much more difficult to make through these 2.5 months without people’s eagerness to share a Pabst with me. Among all the stories about people sharing a PBR or two with me, one comes to mind in particular.
One day after picking up yet another 12-pack from the Key Food, I was approached by a homeless guy. To give you a better idea, this guy is a neighborhood junkie who I often see begging in front of different storefronts within 3-4 block radius of central Park Slope. Furthermore, it seems like he has been relatively successful in his endeavor since everyone in the neighborhood seems to know him on the first name basis. I would speculate that what made him the neighborhood fixture is his friendly demeanor. To further elaborate, he simply looks like guy who hit an unlucky streak and needs a few bucks to get back into the flow of things.
Getting back to the story, coming out of the store, the guy asked me for money but then after getting rejected and seeing a 12 pack in my hands, he quickly followed up with: “Well, how about a beer?” At that point, I thought to myself, “if a man can appreciate a PBR, I shall supply one to him.” So without further hesitation, I tore the box open and gladly handed him an ice-cold Pabst. He seemed excited and it made me feel alright too. However, a thought that the guy was an alcoholic trying to get off of the “juice” did cross my mind, but I still I felt I made a difference in this fella’s evening. From now on, every time I see him with a PBR on my hands, I give him a beer. I suppose this is one way to give back; and look, it is just in time for Thanksgiving.