It was a normal Saturday laying in bed nursing a hangover, this time from Gastohf’s annual Oktoberfest. Drunk Germans, polka music and a lot of lederhosen. It was a good time, I highly suggest you check it out. I got a call from my friend asking if I wanted to grab lunch. I wasn’t sure, it would mean I would have to put pants on, something I really don’t like doing. But I could use some greasy food and Uptown Tavern has tots, yumm. So I went. Like dropping a stone in a body of water, that decision’s ripples would effect many through space and time that day. Upon partaking of the excellent bloody mary bar and loaded tots, a conversation began. I don’t recall exactly what was said, but it went something like this:
“Steve lives in a world of rainbows, sunshine and smiles. Let’s live in that world tonight!”
“OK, sweet! But what are we going to do?”
“Wouldn’t it be great if someone was having a kegger? Cassi you should buy a keg!”
“Hell yeah, I’ve always wanted to buy a keg, I’ll do it! It will be a keg of rainbows, sunshine and smiles!”
And I swear to the red solo cup gods, a bald eagle soared across the sun while screeching something that sounded eerily similar to Poison’s “Nothin’ But A Good Time” at that exact moment.
And so the fellowship of the keg began. Our first quest: procure a beer pong table. Surprisingly difficult, given my cheap nature. We first tried Home Depot because one of our number had a mini-quest to find a plant, which she did. But a folding table long enough for beer pong was almost $60. Fuck that. We next tried Target because we correctly guessed that being in The Quarry, this Target would cater to the college house party crowd. Found the same table for $35. Score. We also purchased the necessary cups and ping pong balls. The cashier winked at us on our way out, she obviously kept it real.
The next leg of our quest: procure the keg. In this area, my cheap nature worked to my advantage. We returned to the stomping ground of our youth, Dinkytown Liquor. Now, riddle me this. A keg of Bud Lite was $90 while a keg of Rolling Rock was $60. So I got a better beer for being cheap. Finally my day had come! It was about this time that I told my roommates I was doing this. Part of that was strategery, I had already crossed the point of no return so it didn’t really matter if they were opposed to having a keg in their apartment. Luckily, I live with pretty cool people and they were fine with it.
The final journey for the fellowship of the keg was to get it into my apartment. This proved difficult. The three of us only made it about five feet before commandeering a passerby’s boyfriend to haul it up the steps for us. Evidence that Minnesota nice totally exists.
The best part of this is I that I really didn’t do anything except bankroll the operation. I was driven around, other people did all the inviting to make sure enough people showed up, I’m even getting a ride to return the keg later tonight. I should totally do this more often.
The party itself was pretty standard. Beer pong rivalries were born, keg stands were done, the neighbors ventured over and stayed way too late. Like I started cleaning up until they awkwardly left too late. Ironically, the two biggest beer spills were my fault. First, when I tapped the keg I forgot to check that the spout lever wasn’t open which resulted in a nice little beer shower for me. And then I over excitedly hugged a friend and knocked her cup right out of her hand. I think the most entertaining part for me was trying to explain what the occasion was. People would ask “so what’s the keg for?” to which I would reply “drinking.”
All in all I ended up making $50 and knocked one of my bucket list: have a kegger. Check. All in the name of spontaneity. Also rainbows, sunshine and smiles.