The Person I'm Next To Is Finding Social Commentary In Alcohol Prices

I'm next to this guy with a white shirt. It's a plain white t, not an undershirt, but plain and white like an undershirt. He has calf length shorts that he has made from old jeans, and sneakers. He has a bit of a beard going on, and his hair is uncombed.
He has been hanging out drinking for a while today. Every time he walks up to the bar for another drink he starts to chat. He chats funny. His words are fast but clear, and every now and then a grandiose word pops out. They aren't mixed in smoothly, but they are still at least mildly pleasing. It's like when you have some ready made macaroni and cheese, and the cheese product powder clumps up in weird little balls. So one second you are eating a blend of fake cheese and noodle, then suddenly it is all fake cheese, bright, clear, kind of chalky fake cheese.
He says, "You don't serve Pabst, I guess you don't care about the proletariat, whatever." He has a slight condescending tone, and but he smiles and continues chatting while he orders a 2 dollar beer in place of the 1 dollar beer. He doesn't grumble about it that much.
I want some macaroni and cheese now. I guess I always do.

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