I am ofically a EAC now . . .
The Engine and Truck had a slow day at work yesterday so 3 of the guys decided to start brewing at the firehouse again (long story on why they quit) I wish they would have started earlier in the day though. . . . My Med rig had a nice slow day until about 6PM then we took 12 runs between 6PM and 8AM including a pulseless non breather right at 7:30AM keeping me late at work about an hour . . . but thats besides the point.
ANYWAY . . . I come back from a 911 call about 9PM and smell malt . . . Malt? They cant be brewing are they? Sure enuff I walk into the kitchen and they guys have a simple partial boil wheat extract going . . . 6lbs wheat LME, 1LBS wheat DME, some haulertaurs hops . . . nothing special but at least they have gotten their balls back and are doing something productive and not watching the Oscars . . .
I head back to my office to finish up some paperwork and everything is quite for about 20 minutes as they finish up the boil. I'm just about to go stick my head in the kettle again for another sniff and to see how they are doing when all of a sudden I hear a LOUD pop . . . Hmm . . . wonder what that was. . . . must be the smack pack . . . kinda late to pop that but it's not my beer . . .Oh well I think I'm going to go have a smoke then head to the kitchen to see whats up.
I head out to the hose tower to have my smoke and all is nice and quiet in my new little 8x8 by 40 foot tall "smoking lounge" . . . to bad this metal folding chair is 30 freeking degrees . . . I do hear some activity on the apparatus floor, someone is going through the truck and it sounds like they are looking for something. WTF could they be looking for . . . who cares . . .
I finish up my cig then walk towards the kitchen again . . . WOW the malt is strong now. as I turn into the kitchen Larry Moe and Curely are sitting at the table all 3 looking like they just got caught with their hand down their sisters pants . . .
Lt Pumbaa: "hey guys . . . where's the wort?"
3 stooges: "in the laundry room"
Lt Pumbaa: "Ahhh . . . you pitch the yeast yet?"
3 stooges: glaring at me "no"
Lt pumbaa: "to warm yet?" as I look at their immersion chiler noticing it's oddly dull
3 stooges: glaring at me even more intensly "yeah"
Lt Pumbaa: "ahh, probably better that ya havent pitched yet. Besides less fermentation in the firehouse the less potential problems with makeing beer in the house . . . IMHO it's still just barely soup . . ."
By this time the Captain is starting to give me looks . . . WTF did I do now?
Lt Pumbaa: "when ya think you're gonna pitch?"
3 Stooges: "tomarrow"
Lt Pumbaa: "Tomarrow? thats kinda pushing it but I guess better safe the sorry . . . hope it dont get infected" and I walk to the laundry room to see how warm the carboy is
I get there and I see a carboy wraped in duct tape, sitting on a towel that has a good bit of wort all over it.
Lt Pumbaa: yelling down the hall "Hey Moe? how much wort you spill?"
3 Stooges: "F*** You!"
The Captain is now ROFL and I can hear it all the way across the house. I look at the carboy again and realize that the top of the carboy is dry and the towel is getting wetter. I rock the carboy a bit and JFC it's not warm, it's f'ing HOT and I hear a subtle little crunch as it rocks . . .
Yup, you guessed it . . . Larry, Moe, and Curely (3 guys that I thought knew WTF they were doing and who's brewing at the firehouse became one of the worste kept "secrets") poured 200 degree wort into a EMPTY carboy. The chiller was dull because they never used it to chill the wort, the pop I heard earlier was the bottom blowing out of the carboy and the activity I heard on the apparatus floor was the 3 stooges looking for duct tape in an effort to salvage the brew.
I didnt say anything but the only thought going through my head was "Dumb asses . . . at least it was just a extract wheat"
Do we have 12 steep meetings I need to start attending?
