The smell of cold Coors on my head strangely didn't feel out of place in the shower. It shouldn't have been that surprising -- even some fancy spas in Denver offer beer-infused treatments. Even stranger than the smell being pleasing was that it felt amazing rubbing it into my scalp, and I did it longer than expected. My hair felt better than when I put on my regular shampoo, which made no sense. It felt thicker.
What the hell is happening here? Am I going to be buying racks of Coors Light to wash my hair with? After I got out of the shower, I wondered if the more expensive these beers got, the better or worse they'd be for my hair. There was only one way to find out.
After day one, do I miss shampoo? No. No, I do not.
While this is also a lager, the difference between this and a Coors Light is the difference between the actual Megan Fox and a wax figure of Megan Fox. Sure, they might kind of look the same, but you'd only want to shower with one of them. Perhaps that's a confusing metaphor. Suffice it to say I don't want to shampoo with Boston Lager again. I thought for sure that I'd love it -- it's a solid craft beer that's been around forever, so I'd love rubbing it on my scalp! But there was something much less showery-feeling about Sam -- the smell wasn't particularly appetizing, and I didn't want to keep massaging it into my scalp, whereas with Coors Light, I could've gone all night. That should be its new slogan.