Hi there. That’s right, it’s me: the owner and founder of this brewery that you frequent a little too much for my liking. I read your editorial about us not liking money. You see… it’s not that I don’t like money. I love money. I mean really love it. I almost like it more than I like my kids. 

Sometimes I do. There are times when my kids give me an attitude that I wish I could amend my will to leave all my money to other money so I know it would be happy. Treated properly, among its own, loving kind. That’s how much I love money.

So it’s not that I have a problem with money, or making money, or making love to money. It’s you specifically. Your money. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.

Don’t get me wrong… you seem like a nice enough guy, I guess. It’s just that you give off an air of shadiness. I don’t know where you get your money from. Do you sell organs on the black market? Are you a child trafficker? Are you a car salesman? I’m not sure I want to make my money that way. Making this beer is hard work; I want to make sure it gets into the right hands. I’m not convinced your hands are those hands. 

You are absolutely right when you say I have bottles of today’s release somewhere in the brewery. They’re right over there in the cold box. Literally like 15 feet from where you’re bitching. There’s at least 2 cases of it; probably more if I had to guess. I keep some back to QC after the fact, for friends and family, for other brewers, for employees, and for literally anyone but you that asks me for one. It’s a common practice of breweries across the board to do this. I have to assume denying you the bottles is also standard protocol for every brewery in town, too. I think you’re underestimating just how fun it is to turn you away.

Oh, and that beer you were going to trade it for? I have that too. Maybe I’ll drink it tonight, then trade a bottle of today’s release for another one. In fact, maybe I will send your trade partner the bottle you promised him. How does that sound? Sounds like I own you. So you see why I wouldn’t want your money, right? What sense would it make to take your money when I already own your entire existence? 

So believe me when I say that I mean this in the meanest possible way: your money is no good here. 

Also, Rory hasn’t worked here for three months. We fired him when we found out he consulted you for tasting advice.