A bar called something like Charlie’s or Jordan’s, one of those names that a girl had better be hot enough to pull off, is just a couple of streets down from where I live. Half American bar and half Japanese restaurant, the potential of sushi with domestic beer is enough to get just about anyone to walk through the door.
Once you know her, though, you learn that Sam is not as hot as she initially sounds.
Her beer has the strangest smell, half bacterial and half soapy. The lighter the ale, the more bitter the taste. I was just there and after apologizing for assumed “wacky taste buds” and switching brands several times I asked if I was the only difficult drinker.
“No. A lot of people say the same thing. We’ve tried everything. We thought the temperature of the beer was fluctuating, we cleaned the lines…we just can’t figure it out.”
Poor Casey. Poor Billie Joanne. She’s gonna have to work twice as hard.