Apparently you aren’t supposed to get drunk when you set up a tent at a beer show. We didn’t get the memo, and our first ever appearance at a legitimate Ontario event got, ahhhhhh, a little sloppy.
We showed up with two clear goals:
- Spread the word that there’s a new brewery in the scene and that our beers are top notch.
- Party.
Most other breweries showed up like they’d done this before: beautiful branded tents, expensive beer pouring systems, matching uniforms, and most important, a trained, professional, sober team.
We, on the other hand, found a raggedy old red canopy, printed a couple random 8x10 signs for the table (encased in fresh Dollarama frames), and sported some top hats we found at good will. Our offerings that day were all heavy hitters, with the lowest abv being 7%. This was the initial cause of our downfall, as we performed quality checks on our beers early and often. Couple this with frequent laps around the event to sample the goods from other breweries and it didn’t take long until all three of us were a bag of loose units. At one point an attendee pointed out that "I don’t think employees are supposed to get drunk at these beer shows" to which we confidently replied, "Don’t worry, we’re the owners."
Amazingly, by the end of the day we had gained some new friends. One group led by a fellow named Robert (from an organization that no longer exists) ended up inviting us to an after party at his parents place just down the road. Sounded like party time to us, so we packed up our gear and grabbed a ride to Roberts parents place. We assumed, based on the invitation and the unspoken promise of a thrasher, that Robert's parents were out of town. So we were a little surprised when a 60 year old Polish couple answered the door. They turned out to be Robert's parents, a far cry from the party animals we were expecting to see. The Polish parents referred to us as the "three little piggies" all evening (because we all packed onto the same tiny couch upon arrival so we could discuss our exit strategy from this situation). “Look at those three little piggies” the father would say as he pointed and laughed at us. Also important to note is that we were the only brewery who showed up to the party. It was us and Robert's family.
Eventually the piggies were served a massive sit down meal; despite its awkwardness, the food was actually pretty great. It also sobered us up just enough to finalize our exit plan. We ended up telling them that we forgot we had actually booked a hotel room for the night (which, in our state, was actually feasible). We booked a ride and fled the scene right before Polish Pictionary started.
Overall it was a successful first event and Refined Fool had made the impression that it came for.
And the three little piggies? They were politely removed from event duties from that day forward.
