This post starts early on the Outboard Brain. I’m at the McCarthy whiskey release. Is there a steel mill next door? Steel distribution, to be sure. If all goes well I’ll be at work in roughly 40 minutes and nobody is the wiser. But with the steel factory nearby I wonder how the flavors of the alcohols they make might be impacted? The man next to me in line is familiar but I can’t place him. Portland…where you’ll met everyone if you read or drink here long enough.
Eight plus hours later….officially it is looking like tomorrow will suck hard. I have come to the Globe at the behest of It’s Pub Night (though that request came when I was doing The Local) and it’s eerie levels of quiet. The only other person at the bar is a woman who, I gather from overheard conversation with the barkeep, works there. Still it is early and not a tv in sight so there is time for other people to appear. A Cash Stout (an oatmeal stout) from Everybody’s Brewing is among the slim but well represented beer choices. The body arms a little thin for an oatmeal– I’d expect something a little thicker on the tongue. That said, it’s a solid brew which seems to be the line for Everybody’s: their beers are good but don’t quite cross the line into great. I’ll happily continue to try their stuff because I think they’ve got the foundation down so nothing else to do but build.
I’m now the only fella at the bar and the two ladies there talk men. I attempt to shrink as much as possible; my opinion about men or relationships at large isn’t really important here as I am a stranger. I overhear a thing or two about chocolate and dinner, pressure and politeness, the wish to be civil when refusing a request for a date; I get smaller and smaller, looking at the patterns on the walls, the beer taps, waiting for the line on my beer glass to diminish to the point where I can take my final swallow and leave. I forget to take a picture of the beer, looking at ceilings, tables, anything else.
Eventually, my glass is empty and as I’m packing up the woman whom I’ve taken my suggestion asks me if I liked it. I tell her and we all pause while she, the bartender and I have a brief conversation about stouts and the beers available at the Globe and all in all I start to feel like I’m at a neighborhood place, which is always nice. I politely say my goodbyes and head home to have dinner and prepare for a tomorrow of blarg.