Open Letter to Draught House
Hey there Draught House. Thanks for fucking us up pretty good last night at the Austinist Happy Hour. Hell, thanks for letting us have it at your crib. Just wanted to give you a quick shout-out, and lay out some items here for your consideration. If we didn’t love you, we wouldn’t be writing about it while hung over (on our lunch break, instead of napping)! Sweet!
The selection. We didn’t bother with the effort it takes to peruse through the four billion taps you have there, what with them facing all different directions (probably to fool the inebriated, like a drunk-test, wheeee!). The beer you brew yourselves has always done us well. And at $2.25 a pint for your own micro, we just don’t care about whether or not you carry Bass. The Dunkel Weiss is good. Better than winning an arm wrestling match with Hulk Hogan. Especially the sixth one (the beer, not the match).
The tables. My word. Those tables appear to have been crafted by rabid, one-armed bears with some serious cataract action. The topography is such that one must find a way to nestle a pint into a vicious-looking clawed-out groove that will counter the tipping angle of the three limpy-assed table legs, just to avoid losing half of a precious beer to errant spillage. We’re all about the rough-hewn look, but shit man. We don’t like losing beer over it.
The parking. “What about the parking?” you ask? Yeah, we asked that question too. Next time, we’re riding our bike. That, or we’re catching a ride with someone else instead of parking eight blocks away. Kinda hard to tailgate without a… tail… gate. Or, whatever.
The bathrooms. Great writing in there. The political stuff was pretty dry, but the completely illegible tags seemed to be pretty well done. One day, your bathroom gallery may be capable of competing with the likes of Casino El Camino, or poetic pieces made available above the trough urinal at Crown & Anchor. Oh, and thanks for having the soap dispenser in working order, as this detail is overlooked by many in the beer-peddling industry.
The non-non-smoking section. Our favorite item. What with the whole September smoking ban looming over us like a collective menstrual cycle, it was really pleasant to have our ashtrays promptly emptied as we polluted our lungs directly beneath the “no smoking” signs.
Thanks again Draught House. (Sorry to hear about your horse) Much love,
Austinist.
