The Temptress

Every time I go to the store she glances at me; watching and waiting to see if I make the first move. Her stare is almost intoxicating in itself, let alone if I give in. She knows I want this to happen. Besides, who doesn’t give in to cheap thrills every once in awhile?

Years ago when we first met, we didn’t hit it off very well. She was so different from anything I had ever experienced before. It was easy to walk away back then but people get older and tastes change. When I got bored with the same old thing I found her. 

She has always been a temptress. She is known to wreck homes and lives without warning. She knows she feels good in your hands. Depending on where she is, she can be high class or social in low places. She is well known and that’s half the thrill.

As I pass, I remember great times and low moments we shared. From pain to celebration, I held her through a lot. She brought out a different man in me. She loved me to press my fingers into her neck as my lips caressed hers. She could take advantage of my mind and heart and I could toss her out before anyone ever knew. However on certain days, her taste is what I miss the most.

Who is this temptress? The home wrecker? The enemy of innocence? I’m sure you have met her once or twice. If you want a good time, grab her by the top and take her to the register. She won’t mind at all. Her name is Sierra Nevada and she’s twenty-four ounces of a road you never knew you wanted to get off of. Please drink responsibly.

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