On Saturday I went with Rich and some friends to the LI International Craft Brew Festival and I'm pretty sure that was our last one. Before we even left the house, I got hangry (anger exacerbated by hunger), Rich got annoyed and everyone got to enjoy that. So by the time we got there I was itching for a beer. A grown-up sized beer, not the tiny little few-ounce cups they pour there. Because that is part of the rules: you can only drink from your teeny tasting glass.
What was once a leisurely stroll around to each booth and a few tastings at each has basically turned into a race to shove everyone out of the way to drink as much as possible. It was cool in a mosh pit sort of way, but after about 2 hours I started yelling at random people followed by my classic drunk move "the look of death" accompanied by silence only to be broken by more yelling. At one point LK put a sticker on Rich's butt and these two girls were like laughing and whispering and pointing at him so I dramatically pulled the sticker off his jeans and turned around and asked them what they were staring at. They ran off because really, who yells at people like that? Me! I'm going to be such an awesome/cranky old person yelling at kids to get off my lawn while I rock back and forth in my hover-rocking chair and take shots at them with my laser gun.
Back to my point, it came down the the maturity of the crowd. The average maturity is that of a 20-something college kid stuck living at home on Long Island itching for the public drunkenness that going away to college offers (or someone older trying to recapture that drunken abandon). That's very judgey face of me but seriously, men older than college age were shoving me and my similarly sized female friends in order to get to the beer first. I mean, gentlemen, this is CLASSY beer, chill out.
It wasn't totally bad. For the most part once we had a few tastes it became a ton of fun, especially moving around tasting beers with our group. And it was a great group; Joe, LK, Rich, James and Mallory.