Three little words arise fear in my mouth and stomach as soon as they’re uttered. My back is always turned and then I hear them.

“Here, try this,” my husband says. They’re heard in more of a slow motion, monotone sound resembling a long, drawn out torture.

“HEEERRRE TRRRRYYYYYYY THIIIISSSS.”

The rack or the guillotine could be awaiting me as I turn to face my fate.

He holds up the pint glass and I see it, my craft beer hell.

“No, I don’t want it,” I say easily enough.

“You’ll like it. It’s an amber, chocolate, whiskey, dog turd mixed with sunshine berries specialty crafted beer.”

“I don’t like sunshine berries. They’re gross.”

He walks slowly towards me, and the glass begins inching into my personal beer space.

“It’s really good. I got it at the Magic Unicorn Beer Shop. It was $8 a can. It tastes a lot like that other beer you like,” my husband, the beer pusher, says.

“Fine,” I say, and I let out a long, disgusted sigh. I don’t like the Magic Unicorn Beer Shop.

I raise the glass to my lips and inhale a short dog turd concoction whiff. The infected, urine looking liquid passes my lips, and then I get the alcohol shakes. My face scrunches in repulsion. I try not to vomit as I swallow amber, chocolate, whiskey, dog turd mixed with sunshine berries beer.

“Do you like it?” He will ask the same question every damn time. The look on my face must not be obvious enough.

“No, it tastes like stomach acid mixed with hops.” I don’t like the taste of stomach acid mixed with hops. No person wants to taste stomach acid mixed with hops.

“I think it’s okay.”

Okay, then you like amber, chocolate, whiskey, dog turd mixed with sunshine berries beer and the taste of stomach acid with a subtle underlying hint of hops. To each their own. I don’t like it. He paid the $8 a can, I didn’t. Some people may like sunshine berries in the beer they bought from the Magic Unicorn Beer Shop.

I am not one of these people.

I have beers I like and am pretty loyal to those flavors. Those beers don’t have sunshine berries, or whiskey, or dog turds infused into them.  They don’t have wild graphics adorning a label. They are not $8 a can or bottle, but they are the beers I like.

Abita Purple Haze is infused with raspberries and is delicious. Blue Moon — the original, not the seasonal flavors — is great with a big, fat, juicy orange slice. Pabst Blue Ribbon has the blue ribbon for a reason. Many people will claim PBR to be piss water. If I’m going to drink piss water beer, I like it to be on the lighter color side. I like my beer to not resemble or smell like a urinary tract infection.

In the winter time, I can enjoy a nice amber ale like Killian’s Irish Red or Amber Bock. Nothing signifies summertime more than Corona with a lime slice — not Corona Light, either, but the fully stocked, calorie loaded Corona.

When you boil it down while adding the hops, barley, water and yeast, then it’s only a matter of taste. Each person is allowed their own tastes in beer, cars, clothing, and other materialistic crap.

Don’t be a beer pusher. Some people will never like amber, chocolate, whiskey, dog turd infused sunshine berry beer.