Where Everybody Knows Your Name

I went to my town's brewpub this past weekend. I hadn't been there in so many years, I had forgotten it even existed.

The service was slow and inattentive. When I walked in, I observed that it was a seat-yourself facility. I've always thought there's a chance that the staff won't see you in restaurants that do this, but I've usually been pleasantly surprised. However, this place was just as I feared. I sat down, studied the menu (full of fried appetizers and burgers), and waited. And waited. And waited. Mind you, I can see how they might have missed me, what with no one else there but a couple at one table and four or five guys at the bar.

When the waitress finally approached me, she turned away so fast after I selected my beer that I couldn't even tell her what I wanted to eat. I figured I'd have the chance once she brought my beer, but I had to tell her that I also wanted to eat, to keep her from running off again. My order was brought by the waiter, who, eventually, also brought me my bill. (I didn't stick around to see who grabbed the tip.)

The beer I chose was called Anniversary Ale. I didn't ask whose anniversary or which number it commemorated, but, in my opinion, it wasn't a particularly happy marriage. It started off with a flowery taste. (Note to the world: I like looking at and smelling flowers, not drinking them. I don't like jasmine tea, either.) There was a decent hoppy flavor in the middle. There was absolutely no finish; once the beer was down my throat, all taste left my mouth as well.

After that experience, I was glad I didn't try the peach brew. I'm not usually fond of fruity beers because they tend to be too sweet and cloying. (Pete's Winter Ale, with a hint of raspberry, is a pleasant exception to the rule.) I also noticed that the menu was full of ales and not much else. I prefer beers you can't see through. The waiter mentioned to a group that came in after me that they "don't really have many dark beers right now". (In other words, they didn't have any. Don't lie or lead me to believe that you might, possibly, in an alternate universe, have something. This isn't Monty Python's Cheese Shop.)

The grilled chicken/chile/cheese sandwich I ordered was suitable. The chicken had a few charred marks, which implied it was freshly cooked, but the iceberg lettuce and plastic tomato slice were bland. The processed cheese slice melted from the heat of the chicken and slid off the sandwich, to congeal on the plate. The ridged potato chips (alternatives were French fries or potato salad) were the highlight of the meal (must have been store-bought).

I was there at mid-afternoon on a Saturday, definitely not the high time for customers. The guys at the bar were all around 50 years old, and they were engrossed in the horse race on TV. One of them was talking about what it was like to be a jockey. I couldn't tell if he was serious or putting them on because he's so used to dealing with short jokes. The couple at the table had their meals and beers, then asked for samples of two other beers, and took home a jug of beer and two take-out boxes of other food (not leftovers). Four men came in together while I was there, and each of them had to go to the bathroom. (What were they doing previously that they all had to go to the bathroom at the same time?) It was amusing for people-watchers, but certainly didn't explain why the servers took so long to get around to me. I shudder to think what the service must be like when the place is actually occupied, such as a Friday or Saturday night.

All in all, I might go back, but it would likely be with someone (rather than just me and a book), and I think it will end up all right if I go in with low expectations.