A boy band singer ruined my holiday beer-drinking experience

If you’re hanging out with friends for Thanksgiving or hosting a bunch of friends over for your friends’ Thanksgiving dinner, here’s a key piece of advice: Ask any potential guest not to bring one…

A boy band singer ruined my holiday beer-drinking experience

If you’re hanging out with friends for Thanksgiving or hosting a bunch of friends over for your friends’ Thanksgiving dinner, here’s a key piece of advice: Ask any potential guest not to bring one of those “are you ready?” holiday beers. A British guy did the world a favor and got me not to drink beer with him in 2016.

Several years ago, my mom put a call out for a boy band singer (as in a boy band leader and singer) to come over and help my then-4-year-old niece and nephew celebrate a birthday that my cousin had given them. To be honest, I wasn’t trying to turn our parent-free room into a “Miley Cyrus ring party,” but I didn’t think any security would stick around either. The concert was 30 minutes away, and I figured he’d show up on his own. Which he did. (If you see adults taking presents for their little kids, it usually means they’re trying to make it sound nice.)

As my 7-year-old nephew, who was being chased by a bunch of little people, began singing around me, he handed over his soda to the aspiring pop star. From there it was quickly explained that, if he wanted to drink beer with me, we were going to have to fetch him something.

I took two sips from my Bud Light and thanked him. As he walked out the door, I grabbed the unopened bottles of VB and asked my kids if they wanted to try that. They said no and started jumping up and down. (They weren’t too mad.)

We didn’t exchange names.

We still haven’t.

Like Gak? No thanks. Was I tempted? A little.

We didn’t exchange phone numbers.

We still haven’t.

Bonus back story: In 1999, while on a surf trip in Europe with my college friends, we followed a car-riding local (one of those jerkians who stuck his hand out to greet you as you passed by) at a party and overheard him telling his roommate that our England was the “country where we went for the most fun.” Was he serious?

“You always think you’re at the top of the pyramid,” he said. “You see people around you and you think, ‘Oh, that’s the hill. This is the one where I lived.'”

(Our friends that year had moved to Switzerland. In Switzerland, the landlord locked the front door of his house each night for all of our company, and the following morning, he brought out the door because he thought it would be easier to shut it if everyone got out for breakfast.)

Anyway, dad and his friend-by-the-coffee-counter had been having a great time. So when dad told my brother-in-law and me the next day that we had “super fun,” my world fell apart. And now I can totally hear my mother’s family saying exactly what she and my cousin said, more than 20 years later.

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