Damn my wandering mind. During a particularly memorable bout of writer’s block, I came up the idea where I'd drink six bottles of non-alcoholic beer over a short period of time.
Startlingly, the idea was approved by my editors and I found myself with a six-pack of Kaliber Non-Alcoholic Premium brew in front of me. Six beers, 0.5 percent of alcohol per bottle, no inhibitions. So, here’s what happens when you foolishly pitch a goddamn story about drinking a sh*t ton of non-alcoholic beer.
This is surprisingly tasty—I think I was expecting something along the lines of old vase-water, but this sort of tastes like soda that’s been soaked in bread. I don’t feel buzzed yet, but I have to pee already. Remarkable. The Internet says each of these are only 66 calories—so if I drink all six, that’s only 396 calories to work off! Hey, what a nice day!
Beer Two, 4:32 p.m.
I figured I’d start feeling full early on, but I’m a bit surprised this happened as I opened up my second beer. The charming wheaty taste has become a little bitter, but I’m literally chugging along. I don’t think I’m drunk yet, but I’m starting to talk with the same enthusiasm about inane subjects like I do when I’m drinking. I don’t know, maybe I’m just more passionate today?
Beer Three, 4:46 p.m.
I’m kind of a lightweight, to be honest, so I’m almost always drunk by my third beer. But I just feel full—full of gas and tears and piss. I guess I’m a little bit lightheaded, but for the price I’ve paid, it’s just not worth it.
Beer Four, 5:11 p.m.
Oh, good news—each beer has 1.3 grams of protein, so I’ve just consumed 5.2 grams of protein in liquid. I don’t feel great. It’s like I’ve eaten a loaf of bread—not white bread, either—the fancy stuff you get at a bakery. I realize now that it’s so easy to drink massive quantities of beer because the alcohol inside makes everything feel good. No alcohol, no happiness.
I’ve peed five times now. I’m a shell of a man. I'm definitely experiencing that heady buzz right now—you know, the kind you get after consuming one bottle of beer.
Beer Six, 5:59 p.m.
As my lips grace the final beer in my six-pack of Kaliber Non-Alcoholic Premium Beer, I feel a wave of relief rush through my body. I’m sober, but it feels like I’ve just eaten an entire f*cking large pizza by myself. Non-alcoholic beer is the premature ejaculation of beverages—the job is done, but boy what a price I’ve paid. I’m not drunk, but I will be spending the rest of the night face down on my bed.
I hate myself and I want to die.
Jeremy Glass is the Vice editor for Supercompressor and has thoroughly learned his lesson—but probably not.