Most earth scientists are deeply passionate about their science, treating it as a vocation -a true calling- and not just any old degree. And they tend to feel the same way about beer, applying just as much discipline and passion to the task of finding a well-pulled pint as they do to ferreting around for a nice trilobite specimen in the local quarry. I’m not sure how it is in other countries, but in Merrie Olde England all geology students possess a mental map of the country based on 2 priorities: rocks and pubs. We know which pubs to visit in any town that’s close to an important geological location, and no college field trip is complete without at least one solid session in a well-known local watering hole.
In my formative high-school years, pre-geology, when we wanted to get really trashed we tended to eschew beer in favour of cheap gin or vodka. And if you’ve ever had a proper gin drunk, you’ll know that’s a really stupid teenage thing to do, inevitably ending with a couple of hours crawling-on-the-bathroom-floor-begging-for-death and then a cataclysmic hangover the next day. I vaguely remember a teenage episode involving me, my friends, and a bottle of gin, followed by a long sojourn down the side of the house, where I lay on the cold path head down in a drain, talking to myself until my parents carried me in doors.
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