Bar hopping with my Life Coach

I was sitting around my apartment, getting some work done on Thursday night when I got a call from my Life Coach saying he was on his way over to get me so we could go have a couple of beers.

I actually had some good news — pretty significant stuff, actually — but haven’t really been in town much lately to celebrate. So, My Life Coach put things into action (as usual) and ushered me out the door.

We found Ryan tending bar over at The Press Room and he quickly greeted us by pouring up our usual — a couple of Harpoon IPAs. I noticed that Tristan had left his mark before heading out west for his big trip by getting the Magic Hat Roxy Rolles on tap. I just brought a 12 pack of that stuff down to an old friend in Cambridge this past week and he seemed quite pleased with how those Phisheads up in Vermont make their beer.

On an interesting side note, I’m so late in writing up this post I just got a road report from Tristan during a stopover in Chicago. He said PBR drafts in Seattle go for $4 a pop. WTF, man. That’s outrageous. With prices like that I could see some ragged flannel coming back into style real soon.

So, my Life Coach made it pretty clear he wasn’t going home Thursday night, which meant a hearty night of beer drinking for yours truly. Gregg had found us over at The Press Room, which was nice, because he got me all updated on how his bartending gig over at the Hilton is going really well. I need to get over there and see the man, or at least go and score some of those free apps they have on weekday afternoons. By the way, Gregg’s rating of the Roxy Rolles? “Very drinkable,” he told me. That’s some high praise if you know Gregg at all. Be proud, Vermonters.

Gregg came with us to the Coat of Arms where we all had some Boddingtons. That’s some smooth beer. Fredo had just finished pulling a night shift, and he texted me so he could have a beer and partake in our quasi-celebration. We were enjoying ourselves at the Coat. There was a decent crowd and we all got to socialize at the bar, but we had another stop I promised to make — over at the party at Flatbread for the NH Film Festival.

Flatbread isn’t a place that might strike you as a place for decent beer drinking. But take heed, my fellow Beer Drinkers. They are ready to transact some serious business over there. Namely, they have the coveted Tuckerman’s Pale Ale on tap, which is a favorite of my Life Coach (and myself). We gorged ourselves on the free pizza.

And while hanging near the taps, this blond woman with a bob cut was kind of in our Beer Drinking Zone with her back to us. She was wearing this black off-the-shoulder number and this short skirt that was a little too sweet (like a gay man wearing fitted jeans). Is that offensive to say? It’s probably the only way I can accurately describe the scene. Anyway, I told Fredo she looked like some she belonged in rap video. There was something about that outfit that just said BET to me. Of course, I have to confess, my judgment could be severely skewed. Black Entertainment Television is probably among my clearest cable channel out of the 15 or so that I get at home (although my Spanish channels are pretty sweet.)

I digress. I’m really getting away from the night. After shoveling about a half dozen slices down our respective shafts (yeah that’s meant to sound gross), we decided it was time to head back to The Press Room and see what was happening. We saw Cava Girl over there. (I heard she doesn’t really like her BDR moniker. Not sure what to do with that. I think I need talk to Mr. X about it.)

I had noticed Ryan was fielding some inquires about the Roxy Rolles, and those who dared to sample it seemed pretty thrilled. I liked that. I kind of wished Mr. X was about, but hey I don’t want to sound like the dumped ex-girlfriend here. I thought the guy blew me off and headed to Boston to see New Girl, but he actually had come down with a case of Pinkeye and stayed in so he would pass it around. Can you believe it? I can. It’s just that man’s luck.

I was really wishing the whole crew was around. But even The Captain was already adjusting to his new life up north, literally checking out some nightspot that had a three old German guys in short shorts playing the accordian. This is what he e-mailed me, “I was in Manch at what was literally the worst bar event ever. The band was three old german guys in short shorts playing the accordion.”

That really makes me laugh. The Captain is quite a dude. I almost feel a little bad about the man relocating, but he’ll be back in the spring and I’m sure we’ll be doing some more beer drinking in 2010.

– The Beer Drinker