2021-12-02 - Celebrations and Chocolate Martinis

Tonight was a night to celebrate, a great time to have a couple of drinks with friends, or at least with her boyfriend. The donut clad duchess strolls on into the bar, accompanied by her gentlemanly date whos held the door open for her. "I'm super happy, did I tell you he's paying me $17 an hour?" she reports backward, waiting for a moment at the entryway for Chris to mosey on in. "That's, like, twice what I made at Dairy Queen back home." it's hard to make a solid living slinging ice cream, that's for sure.

"Hi!" she chirps over to the bartender on duty, taking a quick peak at her phone as it bings and she heads on over to take a seat at the bar. "Awe, Turner can't make it, I was hoping he could come out and celebrate with us." her lips shift sideward as her disappointment shows through her features. "Well, that's okay." her uplifting attitude doesn't take too much of a hit as she plants herself and folds her left leg over her right.

Her attention darting over to Tor she hums happily "How are you?"

Chris has a long overcoat for the chilly late fall night, with a pair of well-worn leather work boots. "We should've bought a cage or something. I can't imagine what our house is going to look like when we get back." There was always at least one missing item on any given shopping list.

"It sounds like you'll be able to make your rent payment!" Chris beams merrily at the good news as if she were in danger of being evicted or something. "Is it Miller Lite time?" he teases her as he moves to settle into the adjacent stool. He cranes his neck over to read some of the ends on what's on the taps.

"I still have -some- pumpkin patch money," she smirks over at Chris, though the inflection on that -some- would lead one to believe she might have burnt through more of her moving funds than she's letting on, probably from buying so many matching coats for her outfits.

Her eyebrow arches, that was a concern, they've left a puppy along in the house and they might not have a couch when they go back "I'm sure Chief won't mess up too much stuff." always a relentless optimist isn't she? "He's a good boy." press X to doubt. "...I hope." alright, well at least she isn't entirely delusional about the dog's destructive capabilities.

"You're drinking Miller Lite? We're supposed to be celebrating, don't you want some fancy craft beer from Colorado or something?" she teases, cracking an easy smile. "I'm buying." she reminds him, such was the tradition for those who have acquired a new job, your first paycheck must be used to buy booze in honor of it.

Shifting her shoulders to peruse the bottles available she indecisively swirls her vision this way and that. "Do you guys have any specialty drinks or things like that? I'm feeling brave." she queries Tor, hoping he might have some suggestions on a good starter to get this night lit.

"Miller fucking Lite?" Tor rolls his eyes. "Look, you can get beer brewed right here in Gray Harbor for a buck more a pint." The scruffy bartender is looking a little worse for wear, with a black eye and bloody knuckles. But he's still slinging pints like it's his job. Because, well, it is. He shrugs at the request of specialty drinks. "Depends. You want something that tastes good, or something that gets you fucked up fast?"

Chris settles his coat down on the stool, revealing a green sweater beneath. He casts a sidelong glance to Fae before giving both her and the bartender a chuckle. "It was a joke. She's always talking about Busch or some other beers from her family back home."

As to his own selection, it quickly follows, "I'll take a pint of the Deschutes Porter." As to the bartender's question, he gives Fae an amused look.

He leans his elbows against the counter, considering. "Maybe he won't get into too much trouble while locked in the bathroom." At least, there isn't anything to chew other than the door itself.

Fae's cheek inflates, her eyes gliding sideward for a second while she considers what she does want, an extensive exhale later she decisively points her finger in Tor's direction. "Let's go with something that tastes good. I'm kind of a lightweight anyways." it's true, she doesn't really want to faceplant after two drinks like she did last time she was out.

"I didn't know there were breweries here in Gray Harbor, that's really neat. Or is it more of a DIY out of their garage kinda thing?" she yammers on talkatively to the rough around the edges barkeep. "My Uncle Harold tried to make his own beer once, but he said it wasn't very good and that Busch was better." Uncle Harold isn't a man of culture apparently.

"Depends on what your definition of 'tastes good' is. Are you talking something where you can't taste the alcohol?" Tor pulls something into a sampler glass and pushes it in front of Chris. "Before you go for the Deschutes, try this. Penumbra Porter."

He's gotten pretty good at the bartender thing, because he pulls a couple more pints and mixes a rum and coke without really thinking about it. That gets dropped onto a tray for a server to take to a table. "It's my brewery," he says, with a half-shrug. "Strange Harbor. It's out of a former mechanic shop on the edge of town, but we've got four flagship beers so far and a few other I'm playing around with."

Chris plucks the sampler glass and gives it the full-on beer tasting test, starting by inhaling a bit of the aroma and examining the color. Pacific Northwesterners are as serious about their beer as the French are with their wine.

Finally, he gives it a taste, leaving it in his mouth a short time before swallowing with a nod of approval. "Alright, you make a pretty good porter. You've got yourself a new customer." He starts nudging the glass Fae's direction before halting it halfway, recalling she's not a fan of the style.

"Sugary and less boozy is better, but I trust you, surprise me!" she cheers out, flashing her teeth with a warm sparkle. Her fingernails trace through her hair as she additionally wonders "What's a Penumbra? Is that a fruit or something." she's not great with fancy words and apparently that qualifies as fancy for her undereducated butt. "Porters are the ones with coffee in them right?" she's pretty sure she asked Chris this same question a date or two ago but can't seem to remember what his answer was.

While the offered porter might not be her forte it's rude to not accept a drink, especially one that someone actually went to the trouble of brewing themselves. Her fingers lace around the tester, snatching it up from Chris. "I'll give it a shot." her lips meet the glass, sipping carefully over the concoction. "That's better than the other one." she offers in compliment, but the bit of a tick of her cheek reveals it's not actually for her and she's just being nice. Nobody said she had a refined palette.

Tor slaps a hand on the bar, then pulls a full pint of the Penumbra for Chris. He slides it over, and says to Fae, "It's a word for twilight. A time between light and dark. Like a shadow. Seemed like a good name for a dark beer." He pours a few more drinks for servers, then pulls another sampler for Fae. He slides it across. It's bright ruby red. "Try that. It's a cranberry sour. Dry, tart, not super boozy tasting. Kinda like a cider, but not. If you don't like that, I'll mix you up a dessert drink."

Chris explains of the porter, "It's just a malty style. You'll see chocolate porters mentioned because they're made with more chocolate malt than most, which can give them an aftertaste that is kind of chocolaty. But few actually add cocoa, unless it's called double chocolate. It's mostly just a flavor profile from the tasting notes."

Accepting the beer mug with a nod of thanks, Chris takes a small sip from the surface while enjoying the exchange between Fae and Tor. "That's probably pretty close to the amaretto sour she enjoyed last time," he chimes in. If he had to wager, he's going with yes.

Fae coos mirthfully, that seemed up her alley. "That's a cool word, learn something new every day." she chipperly blabbers. "Dessert drinks sound really interesting." she tosses out, that might be up next, but for now the cranberry sour seems to be hitting the spot. "That's really good, I like it." she approvingly presents her thumb to Tor for a job well done.

"You can't go wrong with an amaretto sour." she professes to Chris aside, keeping her basic bitch drinking status fully intact. "Those ones were really strong though," she murmurs, recalling the previous date and being more than a touch tipsy. "They need to get that door fixed too." yeah, sure, blame it on the door, you weren't just drunk.

"I've played around with some chocolate stouts, and some milk stouts. Should be a couple ready for the holiday season," says Tor. "But also got one that I'm mixing citrus and malt, for a Terry's chocolate orange vibe. That'll be a limited release if it turns out." He lifts a brow at Fae. "Yeah? You want one of those? Or a half? I also promise I won't be insulted if you would rather have a chocolate martini."

Chris grins profusely. "And here I was worried it'd just be seventeen different variations on IPAs, like everywhere else." A phrase delivered with some annoyance on it. Obviously, he's not much of a fan of the style, as he clarifies with an aside to Fae, "Pretty soon they'll just be serving raw hop smoothies in the breweries, and everyone will be arguing between Citra and Mosaic."

His hand winds up on the lady's shoulder. "I can always carry you out of here. It's not like you need to be driving anywhere."

Fae's eyes widen owlishly at those magical words -chocolate martini- "Yeah, that. I need one of those." her head rocks up and down with a sense of urgency that has yet to be seen during the night. "I didn't even know that was a thing." the more you know I guess. "Have you ever had one of those?" she asks Chris because men shouldn't be emasculated by drinks that are deemed -girly- from her perspective, we're equal opportunity around here and there's no reason why he can't enjoy himself a frou-frou drink.

When the offer of carrying her home comes from her boyfriend she rounds her eyes. "Alright caveman, calm down there. I'm walking out of here tonight." she's determined, though I'd bet money it's not with those pumps on because Tor is going to get her white girl wasted sooner rather than later with her alcohol tolerance, or rather, lack thereof

"We only have one IPA. A helles, pils, sour, porter. The IPA is a West Coast IPA. Nothing too crazy, but it does have a hop punch. There's not enough beer nerds in this town to get too adventurous. I'm trying to wean people off Seattle microbrews or multinational beer. This town doesn't have the most refined palate. Plus, fuckin' anyone can brew an IPA." Tor says that as he mixes up Fae's chocolate martini. He pours the booze into a shaker, shakes, then drains it into a glass and tops it with chocolate curls. He nudges it to Fae.

"I don't think so," Chris answers Fae, giving a look at the beverage as Tor creates it. "But if you're going to get one of those, you'll need ice cream or a brownie to go with it."

Speaking of food, he glances down toward a menu handout for the selections. "All those beers sound great to me. Do you bottle it? Wouldn't mind some for movie night." Tapping the menu with a nudge, he continues, "And... anything noteworthy from the grub?"

It's like a kid in a candy shop, a glowing review before she even takes a sip, just look at that thing, how does a girl come back from having one of these? She can never enjoy Busch Light again, not that she really enjoyed it before but the country girl thinks beer is beer for the most part. "Mmmm it looks so yummy." taste test time! One sip, her eyes narrow, two sips, she squints even further, three sips "Alright, that's the best drink I've ever had." Tor has taken the proverbial cake at it were.

"I could go for a light snack." Fae agrees with Chris, knowing full well she could really just eat and any appetizer will be vacuumed into her gullet before Chris gets a chance to gain any sustenance at all. "Something salty though, dessert on top of dessert is like a hat on a hat." that's very judgemental of people that wear two hats at once, but they deserve it.

"No bottling yet, but we do growler fills. Still working out what's the most popular to sort out what might actually sell in bottles." Tor shrugs when it comes to the question of the menu. "Tater tots loaded seems to be pretty popular. Other than that, it's decent pub grub. Can't go wrong with nachos. But I go back to my previous..." he makes a circle with one finger, "...note about this town not having a refined palate." To Fae, he says, "Go easy on that. There's more booze in it than you think."

Chris gazes accusatorily over the menu at his date. "Do we need to order you your own portion?" he muses, not one to underestimate the girl's appetite to eat after the great mac and cheese incident of... a few days ago.

"Playing up the low expectations, eh? I'm more of a nachos guy than a tater tots person, so I guess you can put in an order for me." And she really may end up with her own thing if she wants something else. Why not? "Although soft pretzels sound pretty good."

Thinking about the salty snacks has him hoisting his mug toward his face to guzzle some tasty dark brew.

She blinks twice, she's already giving some liberal slurpage to the delicious cocktail, she didn't want to find herself in need of that fireman's carry out the door later. "Oh, uh..." her words trail off, starting to take it easier on the boozy chocolate overload.

"Nachos? Everyone loves nachos." that's probably not true, there are some people that are wrong. "Let's do that." she voices to Chris, who should probably make sure that's enough to feed 4 people before he gets two cheesy chips to his name.

"Nachos it is. Listen, I'm gonna put that in and then transfer you over. I'm about to go off-shift." Tor raps his slightly bloody knuckles on the bar and gestures to one of the other bartenders. "Can I get you guys anything else before I do?"

Chris reaches into his wallet and produces a few dollar bills for a tip. "Hey, thanks for the help," he replies, nudging them the man's way-- imagining those knuckles are from the last guy that tried to stiff him on the tip.

That's about when Chris takes an interest in Fae's sobriety by confiscating a small portion of her cocktail. Okay, yeah, he's just going to have a small sip. Or maybe a medium-sized sip. "Mine's better," he summarily declares.

Rounding her mouth as if she's just been robbed the ginger girl disagrees entirely with her boyfriend's statement "Well, you can just keep yours and I'll keep mine." she huffs playfully, retrieving her drink and guarding it like she was at the lunch table on her first day of prison and Big Bertha was eyeballing her tray.

"Yeah! Thanks a bunch!" she expresses to Tor, waffling her hand over to him as he takes off and the couple await their nachos from the back. "I'm going to eat a million jalapenos." that's a lot, maybe more like 20 jalapeno slices. "Can you overdose on Jalapenos? Asking for a friend."

Tor opens his mouth as if he wants to say something about jalapeno overdose. Instead, he just takes the tip, says, "Thanks, man. Have a good night, you two." and then heads towards the back, dropping off their nacho order on the way.

Chris uses the knife wrapped in the paper napkin to cut a line in the nacho cheese, across which neither hand may cross. "Yours, and mine," he indicates with a nod. But as they say, laws are made to be broken, and he has few means of enforcing such an armistice.

Time passes, nachos are destroyed, drinks are drunk, celebrations are had and Fae manages to make it out of the bar still able to walk. It's a win all around. "Nacho nap time." she declares, clopping out the door with Chris after the bill is settled.