Lonely beer.

Here’s the issue with being with a brewer: despite his best efforts,  he is rarely on time.  If it isn’t knockout issues,  it’s a particularly chatty customer. So,  I spend a lot of time waiting and waiting and waiting.  Sometimes this is at home (yey TV!),  sometimes at work (ugh government drudgery),  sometimes at bars (beer!)

So I am currently drinking alone.  A Port High Tide,  for the record. Year after year it continues to be my favorite fresh hop beer and in my top 20 favorite beers overall. It’s been three years since I had it on tap,  and so I moved butt (post haste,  if you will)  down to Hops & Pie to sup some of this citric,  piney brew.

And here I sit.  Alone.  Drinking this great beer.  Texting my best friend about how I will miss his company happy hour at the brewery tomorrow (again…  government drone…)  and sending photos of my “sad beer face” to the Bearded Brewer,  hoping to lay some good ol Catholic guilt on his ass.

Not that I’m really complaining. Great beer, good atmosphere, the coolest preggers proprietor in D-town, and a wifi connection.

I’m good.

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