Let Me Tell You a Little Something About Beer and Working at a Bar

Happy Monday, Blog friends!

OK. I revoke my statement. I’m exhausted. And you probably are too. Weekends just sort of…take it out of us, don’t they? Especially when it feels like you’re trying to cram a week’s worth of life into 2 days. BUT…I had a great weekend. I hope you did too.

One of my many adventures this weekend was a pub crawl with a couple of my cousins. 4 bars. 4 bars that progressively got a little trashier, and I felt like we were in a college town (which we weren’t). The first bar was pretty nice. A tiny Irish pub with decent food and cold beer. But, being tiny, it got crowded. Fast.

So our plan was to stay one step ahead of the bar crawl. Which worked out mostly well. As the rest of the people showed up, we got our stamps and moseyed on out of there…on to the next bar… Except we had problems at every. Single. Bar. And not like normal problems.

The first bar was the most normal of issues…we ordered food and it took almost an hour for fried cheese curds, a reuben, and a BLT. And they ran out of the cider Brian and I were drinking.

The second bar…Oh the second bar. After enjoying a couple of 20oz Guinness’ at the first bar, my cousin wanted a smaller size glass of Guinness, so he ordered a small Guinness. I asked what they had on draft and she made it seem like the list went on forever. Then I asked if there was a beer list…Nope. I wanted something dark and devious, so I asked our waitress what she had that was dark. Her first suggestion was ciders. *cringe* OK. No. How about a porter? Just…bring me a porter. So she comes back to the table with a “Baby Guinness” shot for my cousin (Kahlua and Bailey’s) and Newcastle Brown for me. I’m sorry. What?

A Twitter response summed it up pretty succinctly…

Brown Ale is not PorterSo on top of our flighty, bitchy (and soon to be non-existent) waitress, the Heineken girls were wandering the patio in the most ridiculous dresses on the planet. I had to say this because. Gross. Tight white dresses that barely cover women’s asses just don’t do it for me. Especially when you can see every crevice and every line. I Googled it and apparently there are much better costumes out there for these sample girls…even the same dress in black looked better. The white was just…Gross. Guys, does that really do it for you? Seriously.

Obviously, we moved on.

So the next bar, the waitress was nicer, but she didn’t know what Leinenkugel was. She tried to repeat the name back and said it all wrong. Even though of the 4 tappers behind the bar, there was a Summer Shandy (by Leiny) she had no idea.

At the last bar, they finally had a beer menu posted. They had Adult Rootbeer (OMG, go drink this now) and Left Hand Milk Stout and a slew of other delicious beers. And I knew it because they had a freakin’ menu. They also apparently had pizzas, but weren’t serving them because the bar crawl was bringing food in. And I was starving. And had to wait another hour before the food.

Bar crawl

We managed to keep our spirits

So what did I learn? Bar crawls probably aren’t my favorite pastime. Not since college anyway.

Oh and if you’re going to work in a bar…Know the difference between a brown ale and a porter.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!