August 8, 2008 S&D Night

There comes a time in every man’s life when he has to test himself. There are always certain defining moments: the first time he fights another person, the first time he sleeps with a girl, the day he gets married. Those are all things that will be carried as memories for life.

And then there is Schlitz and Dog night. Nothing is like it, and nothing will ever be the same because of it. It is the ultimate test of intestinal fortitude. The body is sacrified for the fine ancient art of competition. When participating in an S&D night, all hopes of meeting a classy woman to bear the fruit of your loins are thrown out quicker than a plate of pork at Jewfest.

Let me give you a little background into S&D Night. It all started with three men. We’ll call them the B.A.R. men. There is a bar which we’ll call “Holy Land.” At Holy Land, the two cheapest items on the menu are consumed; Schlitz and Hot Dogs. Schlitz are $3.75, while dogs are $1. If men everywhere knew they could spend $1 on a hot dog at Holy Land, strip clubs would go out of business. B.A.R. men decided it’d be a good idea to host night where only two items are consumed; you guessed it. This was enjoyable. Then the B.A.R. men decided to take it to a whole new level. This is when I knew God really existed, and that he really did in fact love me.

Challenges were to be bestowed upon different challengers to eat a certain amount of “units.” A unit is either a 16oz. tall-boy can of Schlitz, or a taste-bud tickling hot dog. At an early feast, the high-water mark was set at 12 units by a man we’ll call Seamus. Crafted from the beard of Zeus himself, Seamus made it look easy. Competitors have been fooled by that number, but no one has come close . . . until last night.

It had the makings of another typical S&D night; everyone sitting around enjoying themselves, pacing, and Seamus staying quietly in striking distance. However, a dark horse appeared; we’ll refer to him as Rocky. We continued to drink and eat. The night went on. Unit totals were accumulating. Seamus slowly crept up to 10 units. So did Rocky. Another gladiator of the gullet, Anthony, was slowing down, but still within range at 10 as well. There was only 30 minutes left in the competition. And then we got news that rocked our world. Beer Wench: Sorry guys, you completely drank our entire stock of Schlitz. I could feel my heart turn black and a piece of my die inside as those words left her mouth. It was a valiant effort, but all seemed finished. All they had left were 16oz. tall-boys of Narragansett.

Nay said Rocky. NAY! Here comes 5th gear. 11 units down. 1 to go to tie. 12th open. It’s time to do work. Bring on the 'Gansett. Anthony has tapped out at 11. A worthy adversary indeed. It is the final showdown between Seamus and Rocky. Seamus completes #12, and stops. 15 minutes left, and Rocky chokes down unit 12. It’s coming down to the wire, and a small crowd has gathered. All eyes are on Rocky. People cheer, a rally clap is started. Women become hot and bothered. The beer wench brings one more beer for him. One more beer; unit #13, the record if he finishes. 15 minutes of pain and anguish; a lifetime supply of victory. The events that unfolded after will go down in bar lore as one of the single most impressive displays of discipline and determination. Half the beer is left. 3 minutes. Another kiss of hops. We’re about to witness greatness firsthand. People say they were at MLK’s “I have a dream” speech, people remember Neil Armstrong take his first step out onto the moon. I remember Rocky going for 13. 1 minute left, about 3 ounces left. He tried. He left it all out there, but just couldn’t get the last 3 ounces down. And then he tapped out. We all stood silent, trying to digest what we just witnessed. Rocky sat in quiet disbelief. He had come so far, came so close. He admitted failure. This was one fact we could all agree on: Although no records were broken that night, Rocky will always be a hero in our hearts.

Song of the Week: “Cortez the Killer” by Neil Young & Crazy Horse.

Quote of the Week: “Epic!” – Beer Wench at Holy Land after handing us our bill.

Random Fact of the Week: For the 9 people at our table, the numbers were as follows: Schlitz: 41, Dogs: 28, Narragensett: 8.

Picture of the Week: .

Until next week, we need a unit!


Fred