Summer Shitty

“What the fuck are you doing with that?!” I was asked loudly by a coworker as I bellied up to the bar after my shift this afternoon and produced a 16 oz. can of Leine’s Summer Shandy.

“It was a free sample from one of the beer reps,” I shrugged. “I’ve never tried this stuff before. If nothing else, it will be amusing.”

“You know you can never untaste that once you’ve tried it.”

“Is it really that bad?” I asked.

“Oh my fuck yes.”

“Yikes.”

The concerned coworker eyed me suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re going to subject yourself to the pain of Summer Shitty just so you can write about it on your blog.”

“As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I am going to do,” I said, defending myself. “Probably. This is who I am now. I have fully embraced it.”

“You and your fucking blog.”

At this point, I disengaged myself from the conversation, opened the beverage before me, and took a sip.

“What do you think?” inquired the aforementioned coworker.

“Wow. *blech* That is not my thing at all.”

Before I go any further, perhaps you are asking yourself, ‘what is a shandy anyways?’ Well, simply put, a shandy is a refreshing summertime beverage option that is typically made with a light beer of some sort and lemonade, poured about 50/50 in a pint glass (or whatever vessel you opt to use to get beer into your face). In the Summer Shandy, we’re talking about Leine’s Honey Weiss brewed with ‘natural lemonade flavor.’ Whatever that means. ‘Natural lemonade flavor’ sure doesn’t sound natural. But what do I know.

Now, I enjoy beer flavored beer and do not typically mess around with fruit-flavored brews, but I can appreciate the appeal, especially if a person is not much of a beer drinker. There is a lot that can be said for a nice, cold citrusy beer when the weather’s not being an asshole and dumping snow upon us. Instead of going down the citrusy beer road, however, I will generally just drink gin. Which causes all sorts of other problems. But we can save those stories for another day.

When trying things such as Summer Shandy, which I know right off the bat I’m going to utterly despise, I try to keep an open mind and look for positives. It was difficult to be unbiased with this one. It just tasted shitty, like a bad can of artificial, Brand X lemonade that’s been sitting on the bottom shelf of the grocery aisle for the last fourteen years.

Here’s what those around me had to say:

Ricardos: “It tastes like a combination of Rhinelander and a urinal cake.” (Rhinelander is notoriously horrible beer.)

FVT: “You know? If it were 95 degrees out, I’d already had a couple, and that fucker was ice cold and the only thing left in the cooler, I bet I could put one of ’em away.”

Cam Shaft: “It tastes like yellow Trix.”

Try Summer Shandy if you dare, beer drinkers. We sell tons of the stuff at the place where I work, so there must be a market for it. But for true beer connoisseurs, it goes without saying to steer way, way wide of this one.

Your taste buds will thank you for showing them mercy.