A 24-ounce can of PBR is in the back of my fridge right now. It's in the regular spot for a tallboy, towering over the craft beers but a neck below the Tank 7 Smokestack series from Boulevard.
Tallboys are the lone holdout from my days of college drinking. They still go well with a football game and take up less room than a six-pack. Also, they seem to be a compromise with Father Time: Hey, at least I'm not drinking a Forty, anymore -- 24 ounces is a sign of moderation.
In an effort to figure out why tallboys remain in my life, I'm asking myself the hard questions about drinking and the bad habits I've likely picked up over the last decade.
Do I love a tallboy because it will stay cold until I finish as long as I'm drinking at a reasonable pace?
Is it the continual joy that of discovering more beer in the can?
Is it sheer laziness -- it's like getting two beers from the fridge with every trip?
Is it because, although it's a novelty beer, it is not a Heineken Mini-Keg?
Is it the possibility of Halloween immortality thanks to an inspired Halloween costume?
Is it a holdover from attending games at Yankee Stadium in New York City, where a tallboy of PBR was a cheap baseball game beer at $9?
Hmm, it's likely all of these. Besides, nothing says romance, like two straws in a wide-mouthed tallboy.
[Image via Flickr: dyobmit]
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