bev·y, ˈbevē , noun
a large group of people or things of a particular kind.
Jen Shute, from Ltd Supply, and I were at The Hole in the Wall bar in the Junction one snowy night, talking about life, the universe and everything over a few beers, as one does when one is in a good bar with good beer and good company. She mentioned the Society of Beer Drinking Ladies during one of our conversational swings, and told me how her and four of her friends who work in the industry were starting up a tasting group with the first event being the end of January. They envisioned it as a bottle-share/tasting group, small and private, to be held in someone’s house.
I was excited. I know of a few other bottle shares, but my desire to go hasn’t quite overcome my social anxiety of being a female n00b in a room of men. I bought a ticket as soon as they went on sale after New Year’s.
Social media spread the word of the Inaugural Bevy, and the event was featured in Toronto blogs and papers. The number of attendees grew too big for a private home and an event space was found. Due to the liquor laws, it was sadly no longer possible for the event to be a bottle share, and several local breweries donated kegs, growlers, bottles and cans of small and big batch beer for the ladies to imbibe.
Kudos to the Ladies: Jen, Erica, Magenta, Renee and Jaime! You can tell a lot of planning and elbow grease went into making this a great time for the 90 women who bought tickets. There were tasting note card, pins, name tags with conversation starters, a candy buffet and a great music playlist in a rustic loft space above Merchants of Green Coffee.
It looked like everyone was having a blast. I wish I could say that I was one of them, but I just wasn’t feeling it. My own fault really – I’d slipped on the ice and wrenched my bum knee, and no amount of Voltarin or ibuprofen was enough to make a dent. I went anyway, and sat on one of the few chairs not covered by coats and watched the party swirl around me. I couldn’t help notice that I was the oldest of the revelers by a fair amount, a fact that normally wouldn’t bother me but on that night just combined with the aching knee to bum me out. I used my three tickets to get a big glass of the Great Lakes Brewery Harry Porter and the Bourbon Soaked Vanilla Bean (so delicious, I went to GLB the next day to get a bottle of my own to make proper notes on and enjoy), and then headed home to an ice pack and a cup of tea made for me by my beloved.