Searching for the Yuengling

When we got to Pennsylvania, we were not having much luck finding stores that were open. The specific grocery store that Jay wanted to buy fresh produce for his media gig on Wednesday was very much shut, and we needed more beer.

I’m not too sure of the beer buying rules in Pennsylvania, but it seems like buying beer is far less accessible than it is in Ohio, where you can buy beer in gas stations, not so in P.A. We asked people where we could buy beer and specifically America’s oldest beer: Yuengling, which is a small P.A based brewery that is hard to find across the country, and it also happens to be Jay’s favourite.

We went store to store, looking for info on any Yuengling. Like detectives we seeked out a lead, which lead us to dead ends and further investigation. We finally came to a large store that we were sure would sell the golden nectar. It was however shut and Jay swore in disgust. He really wanted his Yuengling.

I spotted a small shack across the street that looked like a newsagent. We drove past it and it was in fact a Beer store. I don’t think we have them in the U.K, places that just sell beer. I believe we call them pubs.

The warehouse was filled with every brand of beer you could imagine. Jay salivated at the large packs of Yuengling, and I mentioned that we have a keg (or a quarter of a keg). The worker told us if we brought in our empty keg, he would then give us a full keg of Yuengling and then knock $30 off the price because we are giving him an empty keg. I had no clue about this whole keg barter economy but all the rest of the guys knew what was going on.

Still Jay was happy as Larry, with his keg of Yuengling and 48 cans of the stuff. A gentleman who was buying beer was impressed by the bus, and asked here we were all from: “I’m from London, Skinny is from Chicago, Jay and Scott are from southern Cal.” I told the man. He looked perplexed as to how the four us have all come together to live on a tiki bar on wheels.
“We all met on a gay website” I added with a serious deadpan face. Apparently not the best answer when in the deep dark depth of Pennsylvania, which is not known for its cosmopolitan culture. The guy wasn’t sure if I was being sarcastic or telling the truth, which happens a lot as a Brit in the U.S