A good pour...

[DISCLAIMER] I wrote this about four years ago, and sent it to my brother and my friend John. John reminded me of it today, and suggested that I post it. Such a smart boy. Now that I'm spending entirely way too much time studying and writing for another class at church, it seems even more appropriate to bring it out again.[/DISCLAIMER]

Last week, I took my reading for the class I'm teaching with me and went to dinner by myself. I decided to go to Harry's Hoffbrau -- the corned beef was calling my name. By the way, the horseradish sauce they serve there is done by Beaverton Foods (in the Portland, OR, area), and it kicks butt! Good burn, good flavor.

Anyway, I got my tray and went into the back area, then popped over to the bar to get a Guinness. The barkeep was in the middle of pouring two pints for other sots; he'd started a minute or so before, let the glass fill partway, let it settle, then came back to finish the pour. I was quite impressed with his style, and started drooling a bit. As he went to take the pints to the lucky slobs who'd ordered them, the guy who had dished up my corned beef came back behind the bar and said, "Okay, Sam, break time!"

AAARRRRGGHGHH! The chap smiled at me and said, "What can I get you?" I said, "Guinness, please," and prayed that he'd be as good at pouring the mahogany nectar... but, alas... he poured it as if it were just another glass of Bud.

Sam, however, had not left yet. As Bud-boy turned to ring me up, he asked Sam how to use that particular register (apparently a new, second one at the bar). Sam came over to help him, and fortunately for me, saw the freshly-mangled pint that Goofus had profaned, and asked him, "Have you ever poured a Guinness before?"

"Yeah, over in Mountain View," was the reply.

Sam didn't comment, but asked the offender to go get some change before taking over. The little turd oozed away, glad to be of help. I stayed, glad to have my pint of blessing back in the hands of someone who KNEW.

Sam said, "Let me see if I can fix this up." He proceded to pur out most of the top half of the glass -- all foam -- and then slowly to complete a very nice pour of Guinness. I said a tearful "Thank you" to him. He smiled and said, "Remind me never to go over to Mountain View."

Amen, brother. A-men!