A recent work day ended with a trip to Stone Brewing World Bistro & Gardens – a kind of Mecca for beer lovers, butch and otherwise.

The reason was bad, a farewell for a laid-off colleague, but he was in good spirits and the beer was very good.

Stone is a big, cool place with lots of rocks and open beams.

It has a ton of gardens and pathways. These are useless, of course, for the drinker. Unless you need a breather or want to wander off with your femme for a little break.

Getting drunk means less cool beers to try, so timing and spacing are important.

I would like to talk about a serious problem. Something so rampant and so disturbing that there should be a slew of 501(c)3 non-profit organizations dedicated to eradicating it, or maybe a telethon:

Waiting for my femme to get ready.

Seriously. I feel like I spend half my life waiting for her to be ready. Ok, that’s an exaggeration, it’s probably only a quarter of my life. But. Still.

Let me paint the picture for you.