A Roleplaying Exercise, In Which You Enter a Tavern

[robin_d_laws]

This will be my first Gen Con since discovering that I like beer.

Over the past months I have explored various local craft and and international beers here in the fine province of Ontario. While in Madison I enjoyed, thanks to John Kovalic, a quaffing flight of Wisconsin’s finest. Now keens the annual siren call of Indianapolis, with its pungent streets and monolithic chain restaurants.

At this point in my beverage journey I have reached various conclusions, such as:

• Mill Street can do no wrong.
• Hockley isn’t chopped liver, either.
• Likewise Blanche de Chambly.
• German beers just aren’t doing it for me. Germany, you will perhaps be granted a later opportunity to defend this sacred cornerstone of your national identity.
• Kingfisher tastes like soap.

On a macro level, it transpires that I like or dislike beers regardless of their category. From lagers to stouts, from cream ales to wheat beers, I dig some and am unimpressed by others.

Let us perform a roleplaying exercise. The two of us are in an Indianapolis bar. We might or might not be waiting for a guy in a funny hat to tell us where the dungeon is; that’s immaterial. I am about to buy myself a beer.

Wait, let’s be realistic here.

You are about to buy me a beer, as but partial tribute for my many contributions to the roleplaying form. As either a proud Indianapolan, or a frequent visitor already well acquainted with its finest beers, you wish to impress me with your purchasing prowess.

What beer do you buy me?

You could comment here, but why not join the party at the swank new digs?