We Owe Frank Curci A Beer

The relocation of our headquarters has not been without challenge. We officially made the move on August 11-12, 2012. However, due to timing and poor planning (mostly the latter and by me) we finished moving on August 18-19, 2012. It is this secondary move where we begin our story.

On Thursday August, 16, 2012, our trusty assistant made a pilgrimage to the local supermarket, TOPS Markets* to pick up a few things for the second phase of our relocation – bottled water, snack bars, and other requirements for a 950 mile, 24-hour trek. Feeling generous our trusty assistant also picked up a bomber of Wailing Wench by Middle Ages Brewing. Late in the evening we realized that bottled water and the bomber went missing – left on the counter at the cash register.

You can get water out of the tap but we never leave a beer behind. A quick call to the local store manager resolved the situation. Bring in the receipt and pick up your bomber anytime before 4p the following day we were told. That is customer service.

Meanwhile....if you ever traveled Georgia Avenue between Silver Spring and Petworth you know that it is stop and go on a good day. It’s only a slight exaggeration to say there is a light at every block and they are timed to make sure you get caught (the Walter Reed hospital area is the worst). So, after 7 hours in the car I hop off the Beltway and make my way South on Georgia Avenue. At the first light I hear a thump under my seat and assume I ran over something. At the second light I hear it again and fear that worse than running something over I have car trouble that will make this trip longer than it already is. By the sixth light I am reaching under my seat trying to grab whatever it was. Of course, today’s cars all have power seats and all sorts of wiring and boxes that prevent an easy reach while driving (safety not withstanding). When I park the car at our pervious headquarters I get out and reach under the seat from the back side and pull out a bomber of Wailing Wench.

Fortunately by then our trusty assistant had requisitioned the previously missing bomber from TOPS Markets. That is why I owe Frank Curci, CEO of TOPS Markets, a beer.

*Disclaimer: The author worked at TOPS Markets for several years during college stocking shelves in the Dairy/Frozen Department and generally causing mayhem for customers but it was great fun.