On The Rail: Mt Scott Pub

It is lively at the Mt Scott for a Sunday night. As the bartender checks my ID, I’m reminded of the Ship Ahoy as one of the few legitimate dive bars still left. The people here know each other; there’s a birthday celebration just a few feet away, patrons throwing Monday to the wind to celebrate the life of a friend, along with another group playing video bowling. The bartender seems to know everybody. I like that.

27198428825_0f6c8e9343_cIt feels like a place that’s waiting to be discovered. The lack of windows and the location probably makes it foreboding to outsiders and I’d guess that most of the people here like it that way. Yet, the beer selection is pretty solid so maybe it’s been discovered and I just don’t know it? Or, maybe it hasn’t and my beer is suffering from being old.

Because this Double D blonde from Hop Valley is a weird tasting beer. It’s like a lager that mutated. The nose is a bit dank and the finish is just shy of raspy on my tongue, its bitterness going for the refreshing note of a lager but missing and not in a good way. Papery, is the word that finally comes to mind. Smokey is the other word that strikes me for the flavor. I don’t know what’s going on with this beer but it isn’t good.

Either way, it seems like a spot that is waiting for more people to sit here and make it their place. Perhaps I need to be here on a Friday to see the characters who gather here…or maybe writing like this will make it a place that quietly builds an audience? (That isn’t too likely, but butterflies create tornados, given enough distance and pop philosophy).

I’ve been wandering awhile and I think I’m getting tired of it. The last few weeks, I’ve felt more like going places I can walk to, or know I’ll like, so that I don’t have to extend myself much. Maybe it’s time to stop wandering for awhile. The strain of looking for someplace new is tiresome: I think I’ll sit somewhere and watch the world pass by for a little bit.

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