The Great American Beer Festival is a huge deal. Huge. It’s like the mecca event for breweries all across the country to bring their craft beers for tasting, judging, and hobnobbing. And I’m sort of surrounded by beer experts who know area beermasters, homebrew some serious concoctions, and one neighbor is even a biology professor at the Colorado School of Mines and “is currently developing a research program investigating growth of unusual organisms in spontaneous ferments.” That’s one fancy way to say he’s cultivating yeast used in beer brewing, among other things. Pretty cool.
But that’s not why I go to the GABF.
Tucked back in the far right corner of the convention center is a dance floor. It’s not just any dance floor, mind you. Oh, people cut a rug there, for sure.
The trick is, you have to wear headphones to hear the music.
And only people on the dance floor get headphones.
Thank you, Oskar Blues Silent Disco. All I could hear was clapping and shuffling of feet.
Yep. No sound for us watching. Zero. As in zilch.
But these guys? Dudes were full on committed.
Caught someone doing the Beyonce beyounce dance. He was wearing leather pants, so I knew he was all in.
At this point, I was having to cross my legs so I wouldn’t have an accident. And the security guy next to me was doing a funny high-pitched laugh that made me snort.
And then we saw this. Yes, it takes four pictures to do the whole thing justice. Hang with me, people.
Is he riding the pony?!
I wonder if his friend knew that…
This guy was all over that dance floor.
I’m feelin’ it. But I’m not so sure about the guy shedding his music gear, there. He’s out.
My face hurt. My abs hurt. And my battery died. Oh gosh I haven’t laughed that hard in quite some time.
This part, this tiny little corner, was so worth the entire price of my ticket.