When the suds go missing
For the second time in the last three years, one of those college dormitory fantasies has been realized. Someone has managed to do a David Copperfield on two trucks full of a particular brand of Canadian beer. Quite apart from the warning given by the corporation to loyal clients, “Stock up, because there may be a shortage until the middle of next week”, this cries out for a cheap summer movie treatment.
Do the logistics on this. How do you hide that many cans (empty after, full before) in the tiny rooms rented out at most universities? I remember my five years in “the Zoo” where our roughly 100 square feet of space held two beds, two study carrels, a dresser, a trunk, a bicycle, a radio station, two stereos, some books and a big old noisy radiator. Not counting two or more living, breathing people. There just isn’t much real estate left for hiding one’s share of the haul. Even multiplied by fifty rooms, we would have had to call in for extra space. Like the hockey rink, or the main auditorium, or the steam tunnel system.
In fact, the steam tunnels might have sufficed, but who wants beer that is kept at a balmy 30 C. There are limits. SO, let’s assume that it wasn’t a gang of thirsty Maritimers that skoffed the Moose. That leaves the wimpy Ontario fratboys.
The other part of the equation; a shortage that may last (for the particular brand) until next week. Just how much brew does that gang prepare in the run of a day? A visit to the corporate website shows that they do have a goal of keeping the thirst bug at bay, but we’re back to the college fantasy league.
To the masterminds behind this tailgate party to end all parties, I salute you. Be careful, though; that brand has a reputation for after effects.
