Hey...Nice Cask

At a surprise 40th birthday party for our good friend, Leon, last week, we were seated at a table with a lovely woman named Laura. (Let me clarify...the party was the surprise...Leon knew he was turning 40 so that part was expected.) Also a surprise? The fact that Leon wore a Bavarian hat AND a tiara (together) all night. You think you know someone...

I liked Laura a lot...especially when she shared a story about a fellow attorney in her law firm. The story goes that this female attorney went to a pole dancing class (Dilettante wannabe) and then came into work the next day, gathered her co-workers 'round, and proceeded to show them the moves she had learned. Somehow, this involved her writhing suggestively in one of the conference room chairs. Laura said that no one looked at each other while this was going on, and when this woman's demonstration was over, everyone slunk silently back into their offices and closed their doors...needing some quiet time alone to process what they had just witnessed. To this day, they have set that conference room chair aside as some sort of shrine to skankification...

Leon's birthday party was held at a fantastic Belgian restaurant in DC, where we had a four-course meal and each course was paired with a beer that complemented the food. When the toasts began, most of Leon's friends were feeling pretty good...and consequently, many of the toasts were about days of yore spent over imbibing, vomiting and perhaps performing some other bodily functions.

Of course, I felt right at home.

Laura, on the other hand, has a bit of weaker stomach and as each speaker took their turn, she went from disbelief to head shaking to almost reverting to putting her fingers in her ears.

I was one of the last people of the evening to get up and give my toast. After repeatedly assuring Laura that I was not going to talk about bodily functions, I began speaking. My toast referred to a beer tasting my husband and I once attended with Leon and his wife, Amanda. A tasting where I learned a lot about beer -- that is it made with malt, yeast, hops and water; that it can really bring out the taste of food better than wine; and that the hole in a cask used to fill or empty it is called a "bunghole."

Yup. A bunghole. I felt a little bad after promising Laura I would not go there, but not bad enough to not say "bunghole" in a room full of people. I mean, other than funerals and the occasional State dinner, how often do you have that opportunity?

Klassy with a K,
Brutalism