Some people have drug dealers. I have a beer dealer.
His name is Jeremy. You can read his weekly column in the "Opinion" tab on the CWU Observer Web site (of which I am the Scene Editor, if you care to know) - observer.cwu.edu.
I'm not the only one I know with a beer dealer. Beer dealers are required for those who enjoy a particular non-mass-produced beer that is not available in their area. You need a beer dealer to obtain what I call a "legendary brew" - a beer that you've only had a small number of times in your life, due to its inaccessibility - and you spend your life pining for it.
I can safely call Fat Scotch Ale a legendary brew. Part of the legend is the fact that neither I, nor you, can buy it anywhere outside of the Silver City Brewery in Silverdale, Wash. Anytime I've had this beer, it's been through a dealer. One of my dad's coworkers was my first dealer. Jeremy, who lives near the brewery, is my new dealer.
When I first tried this beer about two and a half years ago, I loudly proclaimed that this was not only the best beer I ever had, but probably the best beer I would ever have. I honestly felt like my tastebuds were reconfigured, and that I could never enjoy a beer the same way after being by Fat Scotch Ale.
