rshort1202

I am at a brewery (that seems familiar to another dream). There is a modest counter, a large window on its left side and an open doorway to its right. I think there are a couple of others here. I’m standing close to the wood counter so I can read the menu and the bartender looks expectantly at me as if I’m ready. The menu is made of a wood slat for each option - there are maybe 8 or so, a standard sampling of styles.

I am what I think is LeadDog with Dad (I’ve never been there, but in the dream this fairly nondescript and small outdoor seating is LeadDog). We’re sitting at a small, wire, circular table close to the wall. I think we might be with one other also. A waitress comes over for drink orders. Dad goes ahead, and I feel like I haven’t really had enough time, but I just ask for the IPA. I think we’ve gotten food also, and it comes out before the drinks. When the drinks finally do come, I receive a pint glass only about ¼ full. Dad’s is not much fuller. The beer is sort of a nice looking hazy orange, but I can’t believe how empty the glass is. I am turned off by the poor service and think about leaving a bad review. Now, Dad has left me and wandered off inside. After a while, I look for him. Through the window I see him with some tan guy about his age in a tank top cut off at the shoulders. Their arms are over a stool like they are going to arm wrestle, but they’re both holding a stein of beer. I guess the objective is to see who can hold it longer. They seem to struggle, though they’re only 0.5 liter steins. I go inside and the atmosphere seems a little better.

I am at the Alibi brewery with Melissa. It looks mostly different though - the bar area is smaller and seems shorter, with seating at the counter. It faces the chalkboard tap list and wraps around the end at a 90 degree angle, which is where we sit. It is not very crowded, but there is a fair amount of people, probably right before it gets busy. It is dim and laid back. Right away, a blond girl in her early 20s comes over to get our drink orders. Naturally, Melissa wants a water. She then looks to me, but I haven’t had enough time to choose a beer. I know there is one that I want, but I can’t think of the name. I say “uh…” while looking at the list, hoping she’ll help me out a little. Instead, she just says something like “wow, you do hate me/why do you hate me?” It could’ve been a playful joke, but with the way she said it, it came off as serious. She leaves and them comes back later for a food order. Melissa gets chicken strips. I’m still pretty turned off by the girl’s comment, so I don’t think I get anything, and she doesn’t seem to care anyway. Melissa now has her chicken strips, and they have brought me a beer. It’s only about ¼ full. I sip it, and it is the one I was thinking of (it tastes like some German style, maybe a doppelbock?) and tastes good. I just can’t really believe they served it that empty, so I snapchat it to Brittney. The bill is $40, $20 a person I figure. I want to tip her absolutely nothing, and I don’t think it would be unjustified. I consider writing her a note on the receipt as well.