Easter Musings

I have just returned home from the convenient store.  I went out on this fine Easter Sunday to purchase a sixer of Miller Lite.  As a rule, any establishment that stocks alcoholic beverages for purchase, be they restaurants, stores of convenience or supermarkets, is prohibited to sell said goods until noon.  But today is a holiday-Easter Sunday, the day we celebrate the Risen Lord with egg hunts, chocolates, jellybeans and that bastard who sports a cheap bowtie, The Easter Bunny.  Naturally, I wondered if I would be denied the sweet nectar I craved. 

As I approached the counter, my precious package tucked in my cradling arms, I imagined the clerk scoffing at me, saying, “Silly drunkard, put that beer away!  It is Easter, you heathen, and I am not permitted to sell the devil’s juice on holy days!”  This would have been a bold-face lie, and I certainly would have called the bitch out by stating, “Haha!  Every Sunday is counted among the holy days because it is God’s day.  And as you know, one only has to wait until noon to purchase alcohol on Sundays!  Why should Easter be treated differently?!”

As it happens, Easter is not treat differently.  Upon placing my sixer atop the counter, I asked the blondie clerk, “Can you sell beer on Easter?”   To which she replied, “Yes.  Christmas Day is the only day you can’t buy beer.  All day.”  I paid and thanked her kindly, shaking my head ever so slightly as I exited the store with my liquid gold clutched to my chest.

It amuses me that Easter, the day of which we ‘celebrate’ the Resurrection of the Lord, is not held in the same regard as Christmas, the day of which we ‘celebrate’ His birth.  Hell, we aren’t even ‘celebrating’ the birth of Christ on the right fucking day, so why the fuck should we be denied the purchase of libations on a day we inaccurately call Christ’s birthday?

Anyway, I have never attended a birthday party, sans beer.  That’s just lame.

For the duration of this holiday, I will drink my beer in solitude, as my beloved daughter is currently enjoying dinner at her grandparents’ homestead with her father.  I was not invited to the ‘celebration,’ most likely because I am divorcing the hosts’ son.