Photograph from smwarnke4 on Flickr

Is every city tattooed with the new Miller Chill ads? On a bus ride this morning zipping between Union Station and Farragut North—the heart of D.C.'s busy office building district—exactly ten bus stop ads (every one except two) plugged the new beer-cum-margarita drink. The Spanglish is pretty entertaining. "Muy Refreshing," "Viva Refreshing," "a Nuevo Twist on Refreshment" or my favorite, "Beerveza"—but geez. That left only one Rush Hour 3 ad and a few nods to Citibank.

Earlier this spring, Chill wooed the masses in test market sites like Arizona, Florida, New Mexico, San Diego, and Texas (regions with large Latin American populations). In June, the product hit shelves nationally and at this point has entered the subconscious of every pedestrian or bus patron in Washington. The drink's inspiration came from the Mexican "chelada," which loosely translates as "cold one." The traditional recipe calls for beer, lime juice, and salt, but the "michelada" sibling calls for Tabasco, Worcestershire, or soy sauce. Miller's six-pack version doesn't include the zestier condiments. Nor does it pull off the fun salt-rimmed margarita glass. But beer haters everywhere can unite in holding a real bottle rather than those frilly umbrella drinks.

According to a Miller press release, the target audience is the "new legal-drinking-age." The drinkers still wearing training wheels. Since they may not be down with alcohol taste yet, this concoction has a sweeter, more cocktaily feel. Miller's website even created "vids," a twist on conventional commercials, complete with more slang and psychedelic floral images. Again, zeroing in on the twenty-something clientele.

Any other cities getting swamped with Miller Chill ads? And how does it taste? Muy refreshing... or grande gross?

About the author: Erin Zimmer, Serious Eats's Washington, D.C., correspondent, is a just-graduated Georgetown gal following her nose about town as Washingtonian magazine's Dining intern and Best Bites blogger. She got her start as the Hoya campus paper's food columnist, and since entering "real person-hood" has ached for her dining hall's omelet station.