As Heather mentioned earlier in the week, we spent last Wednesday grabbing food and drinks at Pony Bar before catching a performance of Accent on Youth starring David Hyde Pierce. Heather was meeting me there so when I arrived I scored two primo seats at the bar near the taps (I like to watch the barkeep’s pouring technique. Also they have this neat device under the taps that shoots water up into the pint glass ensuring a freshly rinsed glass before each pint. With the exception of myself, this kind of technology would only impress five year olds.)
While waiting for Heather, I had the chance to peruse the selection of drafts. Their featured brewery was a brewing company out of Colorado called Left Hand. What caught my eye was the fact that Pony Bar had, not one, but two India Pale Ales (IPAs) from this establishment as well as one on their regular beer list. As a fan of IPAs, I nearly urinated myself.
I started off with the 400 lb. Monkey IPA. In matters of beer—as well as in matters of life—when a 400 lb. monkey is involved, I need to be a part of it. Don’t judge me. As advertised, it was a solid IPA: 7% alcohol content, very hoppy and floral with a slight sweetness that tempered and complemented the hops. Much like a 400 lb. monkey, it was both playful and dangerous.
My second glass was Left Hand’s Warrior IPA. This was a much more straightforward IPA: 6.6% alcohol content, very hoppy and bitter with a smooth clean finish—a much more satisfying way to tap the rockies if you ask me (please don’t sue me Coors, it’s all in good fun.)
Heather had a glass of the Voodoo Vator Stout from Atwater Brewery. The thing that infuriated me about this was that they gave it to her in an eight ounce glass rather than a pint. There are a few beers that Pony Bar does this with, but this was not advertised as one of them. It was at that point that I grew to about three times my size and began smashing elements of the bar, waitstaff and anyone with the nerve to try and subdue me. Again I almost urinated myself (Fun side note: The urine would have been neon green and blacklight responsive.) I was finally quelled when Heather reminded me that she’s not a big beer drinker and she preferred the smaller size.
Her next round was Left Hand’s Milk Stout. Heather asked the bartender if she could have the Milk Stout served in the half pint glass like her first round. The bartender was happy to oblige but still charged us the full price (urge to kill—rising.) The beer was nice: A bit milder than the Voodoo Vator, but maltier and more flavorful than, say, a Guinness (please don’t sue me Guinness, I’m in enough trouble with Coors.)
We got our check. The shot of whiskey we enjoyed cost us a cool fifteen dollars which caused me to finally urinate myself. Heather tells me I should see a doctor about this problem, but it’s not a big deal. As the mop and bucket were brought out, we took our leave to enjoy a sophisticated night of bright lights, madcap comedy, and David Hyde Pierce. Bring it on Niles.