Go Around Cheers

Went to an elegant dinner establishment tonight with lots of family. We had an excelent time, but most importantly, an unforgettable moment of cheers-ing. Here is how it went.

We all had brews. Some dark, some light. The mood was festive. The setting was light hearted. Then came the cheers. The cheers from Hell.

It started with Grandpa, the foundation of the bunch. He cheerzed me. It was a friendly, simple cheers. But it quickly escalated.

I soon found myself bumping glasses with my uncle at my left. Then my aunt across the way. Then everybody at the dinner table. But that’s when the strangeness begun to begin.

A short ways across from us, sat all the kids. We noticed their sad, glum faces, so I took the initiative to bump one of their water cups with my beer mug. And then, just as I started walking away, another forcibly bumped my glass. And then I turned around, and before I had another thought, I was clanking my mug with the rest of them.

The adults from the other table took notice, and decided it was the right thing to do, so they to got up and clanked their glasses with the children as well. We all had a good laugh about it, and started back to our table, when madness found me.

It was one guy, one weathered, grey bearded animal, who approached me and offered me cheers as a joke. It was funny at first, but then another from his table sought to keep up the chuckles, and bumped mugs with me as well.

Within a matter of seconds, my entire table followed behind me, and we were all clanking beers with this table full of weirdoes we didn’t even know.

And then another table approached us. And then another. And just like that, the entire restaurant started going around bumping beer mugs and offering one another cheers, out of goodwill.

It should have ended there. But it didn’t.

The workers felt obliged to join in the cordiality. They brought out their own, empty glasses, and shared in the festive glass clanking. First the waiters/waitresses, then the cooks, then the busboys, then the hostess.

After the hostess, outside onlookers happened to notice, and came in to bump fist-to-glasses.

We found ourselves outside, a place we didn’t belong, and everybody who was anybody approached to join us.

Oh, how it should of ended there. It didn’t.

Cars pulled over. It started as a joke, but then the drivers were fist-bumping one another. That should have been enough, but some jerk-off felt compellled to exit his minivan, and then he started hugging all the drivers. And then we who were dumbly standing outside with un-drunken beer mugs, we all started hugging one another, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and each man is bound to demonstrate common courtesy, whatever that may be. We hugged, and fake-laughed, and all of everybody pretended to like each other.

Shortly thereafter, news crews arrives, helicopters and all. The reporters approached me, and asked me what started the wild display of love. I answered them simply –

“Beer did. Beer is the reason we all decided to act jovial.”

“Oh wow, what a great thing!” She responded.

“No,” I said. “This isn’t great. This is the opposite of great. This is why prohibition came into play.”

“What?” She said. “Whatever do you mean? Clearly alchohol consumption is good when it is the bringer of these things.”

“No,” I insisted, “No you are wrong. Beer is the reason people sing along to songs. Beer is the maker of the happy times before, beer is the reason some have an endless repertoire; of things to be said, of stories to be dread, of longings and wantings and cravings for more bread. Beer can be good, beer can be a vice, but once it becomes an excuse for the people to be nice, it no longer has an effect, it no longer can be drinken, for the killer of all fun is the death of all free thinkin’.”

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