A Letter to my Favorite Beer Company

Subject: Let Me Tell You A Story


Greetings Bjorn,
The outset of this letter will be formal, but by the end, I hope
we can start emailing each other in such a way that our greetings are,
"Yo bud," or "Hey dude." So hey. I'm Dan, I'm 29 for now, and I'd
like to tell you how I discovered my favorite beer in the world.
I studied theater at Boston College and ended up sticking around
the Boston area for several years beyond my graduation in 2005, and
had scored a job as an actor for an educational theater company. We
traveled a bunch, and as my family has roots in Wisconsin, I delighted
in the chance to get paid for a gig in the midwest. I also realized
that it fell in a different distribution zone. My taste for beer had
matured and tended towards stronger flavors and also yearned to sample
every new thing I could get my hands on. On my first night there in
Appleton, I found a store that had a wall of singles and squealed.
I'm a man, and I squealed. I didn't really, that's a joke. I picked
out a bunch of stuff I had never tried and knocked them out two at a
time over the next few days-I couldn't really go crazy, I did have to
educate adolescent students early in the morning about how not to
bully each other, and I didn't want to undermine my credibility by
beating myself up.
The time came to leave that state which I am fond of, and I had
two beers remaining. Some interesting tea-infused beer, and a Big Sky
IPA. The dilemma was this: I couldn't drink them before the show
(nor did I want to), I would be prohibited from bringing them on the
plane as a carry on, and I couldn't check my bag; we just didn't have
enough time between the gig and boarding for the bag to make it on the
plane, and the bottles might break in transit. I looked at the open
hotel refrigerator in dismay. What to do with these beers? I stored
them in my backpack and decided to figure it out later.
I arrived at the airport and had a revelation. I walked directly
to the bar, ordered some cheese curds, my last Leinenkugel's Red for
what I anticipated to be a long stretch, and said to the bartender,
"I'll be right back." I proceeded to march to the airport bathroom
with my backpack. It was in the stall of this small Appleton, WI
airport bathroom that my tastebuds were appalled at having never
tasted a beer this good before. I nearly moaned in that men's
bathroom as if something more provocative was transpiring. Nope, just
a guy having the best beer he's ever had. I finished it, albeit too
quickly and under duress of time, to return to my awaiting order of
melty cheese.
I may sound crazy, Bjorn, 'ol buddy, but I dejectedly searched
for this beer all up and down the East Coast to no avail. Even when I
began to travel the country, I could not mask my disappointment in the
absence of Big Sky anything in Florida's craft beer specialists "Total
Wine and Spirits." I pleaded for an ex of mine to bring me back some
Big Sky IPA from her trip to Wisconsin. She brought Moose Drool, at
the cost of three broken bottles in her own baggage, a heroic, though
misinformed effort that inadvertently introduced me to the depth of
Big Sky's capability as a brewery. Visiting Chicago, I duped the USPS
into believing that a case of your delicious IPA was, in fact, craft
olive oil that I desired to send to my "friend" in Boston. All
arrived safely, and my discerning father met it well when we shared
some for his birthday. I made a pest of myself in requesting west
coast friends to ship some to me from Beverages and More (Bevmo) and
searched high and low for a reasonable shipping price of this, my
liquid gold. I wrote a comedy sketch about discovering a beer in an
airport bathroom. When I finally took a road trip to move out of
Boston to Los Angeles, I decided that I should first drive to Missoula
from Austin, TX, in order to visit your brewery. I departed firmly
believing that everything you guys produce is GOLD. Not to mention
the many compliments I've received on the hoodie I bought there.
Props to your graphic designer.
Friendo, this obsession may seem unhealthy, but I ended up living
in California where the ability to regularly purchase this and other
fine Big Sky brews led me to firmly realize that my sensibilities do
not tire of this beer, or others by Big Sky (I'm loving the Slow Elk).
Before moving back to Austin, I picked up a case of Big Sky IPA
before I drove all my worldly possessions back to Texas, abandoning a
new microwave in its stead, only to find out that I could now purchase
Big Sky IPA there, and in some interesting gas stations as well. Win.
This brings me to a chance encounter I had the other day at a
tasting with a representative for New Belgium, a fine brewery indeed.
He told me about how he wanted to work for New Belgium so badly and
applied and fate of all fortune, got the job. I want to be your
representative. Here in Austin/San Antonio/Houston/Dallas, or in Los
Angeles, or in San Francisco. Seriously, I'd be flexible for this
job. I have gainful employment as of now, (I drive a pedicab and own
another that I rent) but I am very passionate about your beer and my
most valuable skill is in sales, and bringing people to my point of
view. Nearly all of my work experience has sharpened that skill.
It's certainly an interesting path I've taken, but beer has been with
me all the way, and I know I can introduce people to Big Sky brews
with great success, and grow the excellent brand that I
whole-heartedly believe in.
I hope to hear from you soon, Bjorn.

Sincerely,
Dan Kerrigan
617 571 5452

PS: I've attached that sketch for the heck of it, and a few photos I
just snapped while I wrote this email. Also my resume is slightly
relevant.