Recently I (Jake) went to the Shannonville Raceway (Shannonville,Ontario, Canada) for a Motorcycle trackday (aside from Kim: this a day spent riding your motorcycle dangerously fast while wearing a superhero style leather getup…you know, to protect your skin) with friends Ben, Jared and Mark. After clearing customs we decided that we should stock the refrigerator for the weekend. As simple upstate New Yorkers we are used to walking into any convenience store after pumping a tank full of liquid gold into our gas guzzler and buying an ice cold six pack of Pabst, pretty much anytime. Ok, maybe not Pabst, I’m not made of money you know, but you get the point! So we went grocery shopping at six p.m. on a Sunday for the four of us and two fourteen year old boys (that’s a whole other post…). We inquired about the availability of beer. The Canadian accent is a bit different from ours so at first when I got the strange look I thought maybe she misunderstood. After repeating the question “Where can we buy some beer?” She again looked at me like I asked for weapons grade plutonium, and replied “You aint gonna find no beer stores open ’round here at this time of night.”
Double negative. Awesome. So that means that I CAN find beer, right? Wrong. Must be that the double negative rule doesn’t apply north of the border.
Furthermore “This time of night??!!” it’s broad effin daylight out and hot enough to melt the balls off of a brass monkey! “Maybe when you get near Kingston you’ll find a beer store open, but I’m not even sure aboot that.” I guess she could see the sad wash over us when she delivered the bad news, so she wished us good luck with a smirk as we walked out. “Jake, Jared. You’re in charge of chasing down some beer. I can’t believe that there’s no beer in Canada,” Ben ordered! Yessir! So off we went. I turned on the gps and started calling every beerstore that came up. Not one answer. How can this be? I thought it rained Labatt’s Blue and the rivers flowed with Molson Golden in Canada. They may well do that, but not on Sunday evening.
All was not lost however. When we cleared customs earlier Mark and Jared had the good sense to buy some duty free liquor. So as we settled down that night outside the camper in the 90* heat and 600% humidity, we found that nothing quite quenches your thirst like three fingers of Jim Beam.