Let me tell you, from too many years of experience, it is very difficult to recline in the sand at the surf line and keep every bit of salt water out of a bottle of Tecate Light. Sure, you may be able to hump up when the next small wave comes in and keep your chin dry, but the ocean is so relaxing, and that pesky bottle top will every now and then take a dip. Annoying as hell. I can’t say it actually damages the flavor, so I will leave that up to serious beer scientists to determine. Meanwhile, I will soak and have a sip every now and then, maybe nod off for a while.
CAP’N GREG: Uh … hi. Who are you?
SERINA: Serina. You look up a couple lines in this column and you’ll see my name.
CAP’N GREG: Well … that’s just odd. Is this a dream or something?
SERINA: In your imagination, I’m altogether real.
CAP’N GREG: You’re all together, all right. Does your boyfriend know you’re here?
CAP’N GREG: I think I have one.
SERINA: A boyfriend?
CAP’N GREG: No, a wife.
SERINA: Where is she?
CAP’N GREG: Not in this dream, I hope.
SERINA: Is there anything I can do for you?
CAP’N GREG: Oh, boy. Do I get three wishes?
SERINA: Just one, so you better make it good.
CAP’N GREG: Anything?
SERINA: Whatever you desire.
CAP’N GREG: Money, a bigger boat, get my hair back?
SERINA: It is in my power.
CAP’N GREG: Okay. This is so cool. Could you stop the salt water from getting into my beer?
SERINA: Your wish is my command.
CAP’N GREG: Ahhhh. Paradise.