It’s hot and you’re thirsty. You perch at the bar, your fingers tapping the smooth concrete. The mind’s eye depicts your ideal libation. A brilliant pale gold, a creamy head, a floral bouquet, a crisp malt wonderland. There is no other drink that can quell your drought. You’re eager, practically giddy. The beertender asks what you’re having – you respond. Czech Pilsener.
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