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The Fat Tire Belgium Ale Bike Adventure

Updated on August 2, 2014

Just returning from purchasing some New Belgium Fat Tire Ale she caught my eye in the distance. Tall,long brown hair, electrifying eyes, and an S shaped body that made my heart skip a beat. She was carrying in her newly French Manicured hands cautiously and sensuously a six pack bottle of Fat Tire as she rode away on her Trek mountain bike into the memories of my heart. As I watched her sink deeper into my chest not wanting this moment to end the unthinkable happened. In slow motion I watched as she hit a deep ditch, bouncing all of Gods blessings, and simultaneously a bottle of Fat Tire slipped thru the bottom of the case crashing onto the corners of a jagged rock. Gasping as this picturesque moment was interrupted by tragedy my mind instantly raced towards rescue. Not only did I feel the need to rescue this man-down case, but there was my opportunity to meet my green eyed destiny. Clutching onto my case like an NFL Heisman trophy winner I began running towards her shadow. Determined to catch up I raced thru the crowds as she moved quicker into the distance. With the agility of a rabbit I crossed thru the intersection rolling across the hood of a yellow cab like a scene from a Die Hard movie. Faster I ran hurdling side vendor carts and spilling lattes left and right I saw opportunity lying in the distance. As she raced down the street away from my whisper I saw on an upcoming corner in what seemed like a photo shoot, the New Belgium Fat Tire Bike. Realizing if anyone would understand the urgency of the moment, I ran between the photographer and the lighting assistant, handed him my six pack while holding on to one bottle, picked up the Fat Tire Bike and began riding off like the Lone Ranger towards beauty. Though gearless, I rode the Fat Tire bike like a Jockey entering the final turn of the Kentucky Derby, breathlessly trying to scream as I rode her beyond limits. Pedal after pedal I pumped dashing between crowds as I arrived. The moment was here. I caught up to my dream at a gridlock intersection as I exclaimed "excuse me miss." Whisking that silky brown hair over her shoulder I saw her eyes catch mine. I repeated then added "I think you dropped something." Curious who this sweaty out of breath man was who so passionately was determined to catch her attention she in what can only described as a sultry angelic voice said "oh my. yes I did. I'm missing a bottle." As I watched her sexy body tense with disbelief and worry I reassured her, "don't worry one pretty little hair of yours, I brought a replacement for you." Relieved and thankful her cocoa butter soft hands brushed against mine as she grabbed the Fat Tire bottle I offered out to her. With glistening eyes of gratitude she said. "Oh thank you thank you. Thank you SO much." I bashfully uttered, "it was nothing. I am glad I could help." She then said , "no really, I really appreciate it. My husband would have been so crushed." And in that moment I stopped breathing.

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