Katie often tells me that the type of beer I enjoy is made for old men in creepy sweaters, and for hipsters who wear old man sweaters. She might be right.
But the real question is why do I always find myself paralyzed with indecision when confronted with a few shelves full of such beer. I can spend $130 in a grocery store in about 13 minutes, and then I spend 15 minutes obsessing over an $8-$10 six (or sometimes four) pack of a pretentious microbrew.
I am, however, improving. Tonight I actually bought some beer, opposed to looking at it for an extended period and then leaving the store empty handed.
I think it has has something to do with being really cheap.
Or maybe I am just wearing the wrong type of sweater.