Posted on May 17, 2012 by Marina
As submitted by a loyal Steam Whistle drinker who goes by the name of Sydney Kirk.
Steam Whistle is a proud supporter of the written art in Canada by taking part in various community events, including The Writers’ Guild of Canada. It goes without saying that when we received a screen play from a Good Beer Folk enthusiast, we were eager to read it. Especially since it’s titled THE CHRONICLES OF DOROTHY HOPS and includes Steam Whistle!
So, who is Sydney?
Pen name: Sydney Kirk
Bio: A struggling writer who can’t get Steam Whistle off his mind. The Chronicles of Dorothy Hops follows a young man as he tries to make life a little easier for an exceptional lady.
Read below – and let us know what you think.
THE CHRONICLES OF DOROTHY HOPS: PART I
I’m pedalling faster than I’ve ever pedalled before. If this ancient bike of mine had the swift option of changing gears; taking that curb at near lightning speed wouldn’t have been so dubious. A little scrape, a little bump, who am I to complain? I just met the most vigorous woman quite possibly to ever live. As I zigzag up the stairs to my apartment, my fellow citizens just stare, perplexed, as I probably look like I just split the atom. I contemplated stopping to explain the reasoning for my burst of speed, but halted to the thought as what I witnessed today seemed almost like a fairy tale.
I’m not losing my mind, I specifically remember my associate telling me I will be care-taking an extremely elderly woman who lived on the West side of the city. There’s no way I just imagined the most magical day of my life. So without further ado, I’ll try my best to bring you up to speed.
I could hear “Eye of The Tiger” by Survivor, blasting through the other side of the door. Worried of possible young ragamuffins intruding her apartment- I barged through the door to discover the mysterious source. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. It felt like I was in a larger-than-life movie scene; just the way she gazed right into my soul- reading through my life, page by page, in a manner of seconds. It dawned on me that the iconic 1982 Rocky III soundtrack had suddenly stopped. I can’t explain how, but I think she was somehow playing the song in my mind and kindly decided to turn it off. Dorothy Hops was her name, and this vibrant eight-seven year old woman unknowingly rehabilitated my life today. Don’t let the age deceive you; she easily looks at least ten years younger. I found that out the hard way.
Did the agency send you?
Yes mam, I’m here to offer you my assistance in anything you need.
A shot of bourbon and a Cuban cigar would be dandy.
Sarcasm was difficult to detect.
I’m just kidding kiddo. Would you like a glass of juice?
Who’s taking care of whom?
As I surveyed the tidy abode, I did happen to notice some rather distinct features. The entire loft was decked out in Steam Whistle memorabilia. It looked magnificent! Dorothy’s vintage furniture was encapsulated by an odd combination of yoga mats, bar bells, and a heavy-duty punching bag. I must have held a glance too long, as her left-eye was cocked right at me.
My son works for Steam Whistle Brewery. He’s on a sabbatical for the next two weeks and has organized a jovial itinerary for my best friend, Betty Dunlop and I to complete.
Oh, I’ve heard good things.
Yeah I know- Betty’s a real hoot.
She’s quite sharp. Who are you again? Some old gal I’m supposed to help out?
So tell me a little about this itinerary of yours.
My son has set-up four different events for us to attend. He was keen on that number because the Steam Whistle Pilsner is made up of only four natural ingredients: spring water, malted barley, yeast and/
I thought she cracked a smile. I was wrong.
Oh, I was unaware that I had wise guy coming to take care of me today.
To be honest, I’ve never tried the beer. I have no idea why.
As she swigged a massive gulp of organic tomato juice, I couldn’t figure out if she said “you will soon” or “let’s have a push-up contest”
Are you trying to grow a moustache?
I’m thinking about it.
I would advise against that. Unless your contemplating applying Rogaine to your face.
Along with eating as many oysters as humanly possible in hopes of the high zinc treat producing some extra testosterone.
You know, I can hear what you’re thinking.
Well, no. But I don’t like awkward beats. Do you box?
Before I knew it, my back was against the wall and I no other choice but to lace up a pink-set of boxing gloves. She chose the red set, for symbolic reasons, of course.
I would love to tell you that the boxing match was close… but to be frank, she kicked my ass. Two times literally, and four agonizing minutes figuratively. And as I was bombarded with left and right combos from the peppy lass; she also fired at my mind with stimulating environmental questions. It became quite evident that she’s very proud of her son working for Steam Whistle Brewery. It was rapid fire, and every mind-boggling question I got wrong, she took the intensity up a notch.
KA-BLAM (body-shot) Who would have thought that Steam Whistle’s truck fleet uses B20 Bio Fuel and the company is a Bullfrog powered Brewery.
KA-BOOM (left-hook) I’ve learned that green bottle represents the environment quite well. Simply by using 30% more glass, the bottle is able to be re-filled up to 45 times before it breaks.
KA-BOOM (roundhouse kick) I never would have guessed their prize truck, Retro Electro, is 100% electric.
I could sit here and tell you that I didn’t take any self-defence swings at her. But luckily, not remembering has saved my humility. Honestly, in the melee, I think I attempted to throw a left, but I actually came so close to striking myself that I just decided to accept the eighty-seven year olds fist of fury.
It’s a funny thing. As I gasped for air, drenched in sweat, I couldn’t help but recall all the fascinating facts Dorothy pounded into my mind. You would think that my day of “helping” Ms. Hops was full of embarrassment. But I like to think it was full of possibilities. Not knowing where to go next, as she grinned and put a Band-Aid on my bottom-lip, I asked her with the utmost sincerity;
What should I do next? I need your help.
It’s time I listen to Yoda’s mentor.
Were you impressed by all my talents today?
Just a little.
I’m sorry about that round-house kick. I didn’t know I still had it in me.
That hurt more than my first love lighting my favourite album on fire while dumping me.
All I want is for you to do one thing really, really well.
And what’s that?
Write your story and the rest will fall into place.
How did you know I was a writer?
You make observations quite well. Even as I handed you your jockstrap in our spirited bout; I could tell you were taking in everything you witnessed today.
I forget how to talk. Oh, wait that’s a swollen jaw.
Do you need any more material?
Knowing that was a rhetorical question, I gave a wryly smile and kissed her on the cheek goodbye.
Feeling quite parched from the bike ride home, I opened my fridge to locate a cold beverage to quench my thirst with last-night’s leftover dinner. And there it was! If the Aurora Borealis could be captured in my fridge; this is what it would look like! The uncanny glow radiating from the green six-pack resonated through my entire apartment. There was no note attached. It didn’t need one. I knew who it was from. Dorothy Hops sprinted across the busy downtown streets, hurdling over taxis and pedestrians like it was her day job, before stealthily scheming through my habitat.
Tasting a Steam Whistle Pilsner was like watching the sunrise with the love of my life. Well, almost as good. And as I began to write out a first draft, I started to feel an infinite feeling of hopefulness. I think a certain someone triggered this wonderful disposition. To be honest, even though it was at times quite humbling, I’m quite content with how my day unfolded. Not only was it thought-provoking; but I also figured out the name and inspiration for my lead character: D.H.