Where everybody knows your beer

So last night, after taking a little after-work bike ride across the Cooper River Bridge, I stopped by my neighborhood bar (Moe's Crosstown Tavern, 714 Rutledge Ave.) for a very thirsty beer. I got the last seat at the bar and settled in.

Sarah the bartender leaned over and said "Bass, right?"

I'm 44, and I've only recently been able to afford a casual beer at my neighborhood bar on a semi-regular basis. So that moment -- a friendly bartender remembering me by my usual beer -- was a very nice milestone in my life. I like living in a real neighborhood. I like recognizing faces and names. I like being able to get where I need to go on a bike. I like having people know me by beer.

Still and again, next time I'm going to throw her a curve and order a Newcastle.

Comments

[jmsloop]

As you know, Dan, I just recently moved into a "real" neighborhood with real bars (12th South Neighborhood, for Nashvillians, and Mirror is the bar). My only problem with being a regular at any bar, is that it's so hard to throw a curve ball. Bartenders so much love knowing "your beer" that, before you get to the bar, the beer is in your hand. I started drinking Heineken at Mirror, and I feel like I'll disappoint the bartender if I try to change now. And if there's one thing you don't want to do, it's piss off your regular bartender.

[Daniel]

Well, see, I need to know these things.

[Tim]

Why not treat it as an excellent bartender report-building opportunity?

If "the usual" is already being poured, sit down and start a conversation when the bartend brings the beer. Take a sip and say something like, "I'm thinking about trying something (lighter, darker, on tap, etc.), what would you recommend?" (or "... you got something like that?")

[Ben]

The only place where I've ever been a recognized regular was in McAllen, Texas, near the border.

We were regulars at an "Irish" bar, whose jukebox featured little but ranchero music and where the management brought in mariachis on weekends. It also had a funk.

But one time, they opened maybe 3 hours early so a friend and I could watch a basketball game. They also took a polaroid of us and put it on the wall. A very nice feeling, for sure.

[Chuckography]

My daughter was visiting and, as we walked along past an Irish bar, I said "I don't get out much anymore.. want to stop in?" She agreed.

Yeah, as we started to sit, the bartender brought over a Boddingtons, said "Hi Chuck" and asked what the young lady would be having?

[jj]

i miss having a regular bar. there was one (now closed), where my usual server knew my tastes - not just a beer.

eventually, when i came in, she'd pick out a beer for me - and never got one wrong.

now that's a sign of a good staff. either that, or i drank there way too much.

[peg]

44? That's a typo, right? ;

[Monty]

Mmmmmm.... Moe's.

Hey Dan, I lost your email address (I know, you ~just~ gave it to me, in hardcopy no less), but we're all about doing Moe's! Also, did you hear that they are opening a Moe's Downtown? I'm not sure I like sharing...

[Daniel]

No, I'm actually 44. I know I look a lot older (at least that's what my blog enemy says), but that's it.

Monty: [email protected]. And we were discussing whether the NEW Moe's would take some of the pressure off of the CURRENT Moe's, making it easier for us to get seats.

[Heather]

I miss beer. The countdown is on though 12 or 13 more weeks and I will celebrate with a Newcastle.

As far as the age comments, I believe you may be mistaken as older due to the varied life experiences you've shared. Many people find their way along an unwavering path and accrue years faster than wisdom.