Unlike in civilized countries where voting is A) mandatory and B) held on a weekend or a national holiday, elections here in the U.S. of A. are held on Tuesdays. I could not say why. It’s like they put obstacles in our way on purpose, as though deep somewhere in the national conscience we still have this idea that voting should be difficult or else all the wrong people will do it.

However, Burger Madness at the Dark Horse is also held on Tuesdays. And if there’s something better than a thick, well-dressed cheeseburger, seasoned curly fries, and a pint of Fat Tire after a fifteen hour day running a Boulder County polling place, I don’t wanna know about it because it will probably kill me.

I admit to having some ignorance in the ways of beer and bars, however.

Ignorance #1

Me: “I want a pint of something local and blonde.”
Bartender: “OK, how about…”
Me: “I’m thinking a Fat Tire.”
Bartender: “…That’s not blonde.”
Me: “Hell. It’s blonder than a stout, right?”

I have an unsophisticated palette, and I group beers thusly: Beer you can see through, i.e. “pale stuff,” beer you can’t see through, i.e. “stout,” and carbonated piss, i.e. “Corona Light.” Remind me what to properly call a Fat Tire and I will probably succeed at calling it that all night. You take your chances tomorrow. Meanwhile, however, I’m in bliss drinking the stuff. Because it’s been that kind of day.

Ignorance #2

I went to the Dark Horse to recover from the election.

The Dark Horse is a bar, and it is covered in TVs.

Guess what was on the TVs? On the evening following the close of polls on a general election? Go on, guess.

[hands over hears] I DON’T WANNA KNOW SHUT UP SHUT UP LA LA LA LA LA NOT LISTENING