By: Billy Beerslugger
I’d like to tell you a little something about Molson XXX. It’s 7.3% alcohol by volume. To give you a frame of reference Coors Light and Miller Lite are around 4.2% abv. So effectively you are drinking about 87% more alcohol per beer with XXX than your average American light beer.
Needless to say drinking Molson XXX gets you wasted. I’ve had several run ins with Molson XXX in my day. While on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls for Spring Break in 2003, two of my fraternity brothers and I decided to acquire a case of Molson XXX for the pre-game festivities. Now with that high of an alcohol concentration in a beer it’s not the greatest tasting beer in the world. In fact I think if you were in a really rough spot and didn’t feel like going to Home Depot, you could use it to peel wallpaper. So my buddies and I downed this case in about an hour and a half and went out in the snowy wonderland in search of women.
Settling in a bar on Fun Street (actual name of the street), we decided to take some shots and order a couple rounds of beer. We figured we might as well stick with the XXX since it was approximately the same price as the other bottled beers at the bar. More alcohol, same price it’s simple economics.
Anyway, after some drunken dirty dancing I had procured a young spring breaker from Penn State who asked me to walk her back to her hotel room (wink wink). She just so happened to be drinking Molson XXX as well. Great, I’m thinking, Canada is awesome ay! So we get back to her hotel room and there’s some making out, some heavy petting. We’re laying in the bed and she’s on top of me (clothes on). She falls asleep right on top of me. So I have this Penn State dance team chick straddling me and she’s snoring. Not ever being in this position before I’m laying there for a minute or two while both the Angel and Devil come out and sit on opposite shoulders telling me what they think I should do.
Luckily (or unluckily) her roommate enters the room, reads whats happening and says, “You have to leave”. There”s no telling what would have happened had the roommate not walked in but I’m guessing if I had been unsuccessful in waking her up I would have left. There’s way too much Catholic guilt to sort through from fondling an unconscious girl you don’t really know, plus the potential of legal action. Your girlfriend on the other hand is completely game on for this scenario.
So the next day my friends and I decided to be consistent and once again started the night off with case of XXX. This night we decided to partake in some of the areas finer gentleman’s clubs, eventually staggering into a place called the Sundowner. I’d have to say this was one of the best adult entertainment venues I have ever been to but that’s not the real point of me telling you this.
Sometime around, well I don’t really remember what time it was because I was wasted, but there was a group of completely jacked new york dudes on a party bus that rolled in. By the looks of things they were on a bachelor party, pretty standard stuff until the bachelor decided to verbally assault one of the dancers. The bouncer asked the guy to leave but he insisted on staying. This guy was presumably on steroids and when things began to get physical he easily overpowered the one bouncer. Two other bouncers realized what was going on and helped to get the guy to the vestibule area of the club.
At this point one of the dancers was accidentally struck in the head and laying unconscious on the floor. I had two strippers holding on to me for protection (like I could have done anything) and now the coked/roided up New York dude is in the hallway with his shirt off, bleeding from his head from a baton hit and smashing mirrors. Meanwhile his cavalry arrived from the party bus and an all out brawl took place with the bouncers getting the brunt of the beatings. I mean this shit was right out of the movie Road House, there’s chairs being broken over peoples backs, shattered glass everywhere and for a brief period of time the New York guys were winning. That is until this biker dude showed up (must have been on call or something) and just started rocking dudes with one of those telescoping metal nightsticks.
The cops showed up and you got this roided up coked up New York dude bleeding all over the place, in handcuffs, crying and saying he didn’t do anything wrong. Hilarious!
I tried to look up some press clippings on this fight but found nothing on the internet. We did go back there the following year and you had to get your ID Xeroxed to get in. Presumably because of the fight the previous year.