A new local brewhouse opened up this year, downtown, near us.
We thought it would be fun to go, plus you know, we’re beer people.
It turns out, we had to eat at the Thai place down the road (which is fine, their General Tao’s is fucking amazing).
See, we went, and not only do they have a terrible selection (they literally list OV as one of their featured beers, and in quotes beside it, wrote “old vagina), their kitchen decided fuck it, it’s Sunday, let’s go early, ignoring all the people coming in with reservations or watch a game or whatever.
And there were a few people. It probably was worth it to stick around for a fledgling business.
But whatever. Shit happens.
The weirder part was the vibe. It was a weird cross between typical hipster and neo-Nazi. Like, there’s beardo with a beanie when it’s eighty degrees out and the WNBA playoffs are on all the screens. So, you know, typical liberal hipster.
But then, there was all the dudes with the neck tattoos, and the street thug vibes (which are honestly, probably just normal things for kids these days, poser shit because tattoos are whatever and kind of boring now).
It wasn’t so much the style of dress, but the way these guys carried themselves, like if I went to the back, I’d walk into a Second Sons rally or something.
Anyway, weird vibe, no food, bad beer.
It’s a shame when things disappoint, but hey, that’s why we’re actually the Maple City, and not Crow, like these out-of-town Johnny-come-latelys want us to be.
Because it was considered cool in Toronto doesn’t make it good, bro. City folk have the worst opinion of themselves. Maybe lose the animal heads off the wall. It’s conflicting with your WNBA vibe.
Maybe I’m just hungry (nah, I hoovered that General Tao’s like it was lifeforce.)
Target: 1700 words
Written: 2007 words, novel: Father Lightning
Read: Proof Of Conspiracy, Seth Abramson
Comics: Strange Tales: Dark Corners 1, Marvel Knights 1-3 (what the fuck is this crap?)
Music: The Hard Way, Cameron Whitcomb (I like Options, so shoot me)