Posts Tagged ‘happy hour’
beer

The Local Arrives

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I’m never likely to turn my hand to raising a barn or building a trebuchet, so for the most part, I don’t care that I can’t tell beech from birch. However, being able to say what kind of wood went into the countertops and...


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Bird Café: Feathery Finish

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Man, there’s one conversation I am dismayed to hear lately, and it’s the one about how the old Flying Saucer on East 4th Street was so much better than the new one on East Third. I think that’s crazy, but everyone is enti...



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Hello, New Pour House

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I remember this one Sunday evening a year or so ago — I’m pretty sure it was in October, but it could’ve been April — when the weather was absolutely perfect. I’d gone to The Gold Standard (R.I.P.) on West 7th Street ...


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One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Station

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Lately, whenever I’ve gone out drinking at places where I don’t know any of the employees (and there are some, not many but some), I wonder if the person popping the top on my beer is a member of Life Behind Bars, a Faceboo...



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Agh, Balls

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At some point last year, some soccer fan e-mailed me asking where to go watch some Premier League games. I had no idea at the time where to send him, and I’m pretty certain I forgot to respond, but for future reference, the p...


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Piano Magic

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This is a weird thing to say, but I never realized how boring my life was until I went to a dueling-piano bar. It’s not like I had a life-changing experience from hearing bawdily rewritten versions of pop standards. I just co...



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Slay Bells

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I have the hardest time shopping for my dad. Every year, when I visit my parents in California for the holidays, he’s always the last person I buy for. Though I carry his phenotypes in my face, waist, and hairline, non-geneti...


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Trapped

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I’d hate to add yet another complaint about last weekend’s freezing, unbelievably seasonal storm to the pile of weather-centric jeremiads blanketing people’s social media feeds, but, seriously, ice sucks. You’d think I...



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1-800-BARTEND

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The next time you’re chatting up your regular bartender, you should ask if he or she went to school. Not college, mind you. I’m mean bartending school, as in the place that teaches you to make the kind of drinks nobody woul...


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We Are Legend

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Last Saturday, at Flying Saucer’s BeerFeast, I was at first amused and then mildly amazed at the number of people with rotting faces milling around the tables of the biergarten. Though Halloween is still two weeks away, the z...