The next time I was at that bar, with a different set o' friends, I ordered myself a Blondie. While I was enjoying it, I thought it would be funny to snap a picture of our table with our beer prominently displayed and send it to Peter. Ya know...just to rub it in. "Ha ha...I'm enjoying this wonderful Belgian beer and you suck!" kinda thing. I'm a dick like that.
This first time, Peter responded with his own picture. A screenshot of a cartoon with the caption "YOU...are a douchebag!" And that, my friends, is how all good traditions start. So now whenever I have a Leffe Blond I feel the need to snap a picture of it, or of me drinking it, or of the bottle prominently displayed between Gia's boobs (I'm especially fond of that last one). I then forward the pic and wait for the inevitable response. Generally a hilarious one. The last time I did it, he sent me a picture of his refrigerator. Filled with Belgian beers, natch!
I only mention it because, for some reason, my Mother has been keeping Leffe at her house lately. So the past two weekends I have been able to engage in my favorite infantile game of tag.
To quote Mr. Jimmy Buffet:
"I'm growing older, but not up!"