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My Dear,
Please do not fear how much Czech beer I consume or what it does to my
figure.
I was born there and when I hear the word Plzen or Pilsner here, I think
of
everything, dear to me there.
As a young boy, I would go to hotel Sternberk to get my dad his draft beer
and I decided to save his figure, by drinking some of the beer. I would not
tell him I drank it, only that it spilled on the stairs near.
My dad was very sincere and could sense I was lying, but then he saw my
fear. Perhaps it was the left over head on my lip, that I forgot to smear.
What young boy could resist, carrying a jug of beer and not taste it, when
it's so near. No matter how much Czech beer he drank, his figure was just
fine for my mother, who gave him eight children, all very dear.
Do not worry my dear, I will not ruin my figure, by letting a "beer
belly"
come between us, as you would kick me out of bed, something I fear. You
know I love my beer, but no more than you dear, it's just that I have not
been home since 1969 and I miss the original Pilsner there. I know we have
beer here, beer there, but imagine: Czech beer everywhere or even better,
me drinking it in Prague and near.
This story is about me loving Czech beer. The taste, memories and belly,
is
nothing my dear should fear, as I will never leave her, unless she says;
don't drink anymore beer dear!
Peter Rohel, Ontario, Canada
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