If you’re a beer drinker, and I am, you know it’s cheaper to buy a case of 24 cans. Which sounds like a lot but really only lasts a couple weeks because my husband and I enjoy a beer every night before dinner. A beer and peanuts and cheese and crackers and chips and salsa. Who needs dinner, you might ask, and sometimes we do.
So it’s cheaper to buy a case of 24 cans. Also heavier. But when my husband was injured early this year, I did all the grocery shopping, including the beer. And while I want to increase my upper body strength, a case of beer is almost beyond my limit. Which is why I looked for help wherever I could find it.
Maybe it’s sexist, but I often looked to a man when I was standing in the adult beverage aisle at the grocery store. Recently, a young bearded fellow was loading the cooler and I asked if he could lift a case into my cart.
“Happy to,” he said, and then asked, “Full octane?”
“Absolutely,” I said.
It was such a gift. His kindness, his humor. I smiled all the way to the checkout.
