I don’t want you guys to ever think that I have forgotten about the blog, because that could not be furthest from the truth. I love this blog and the passion I have for this blog is only hampered by the constant barrage of defeats life keeps hurling at me. In an ongoing effort to better my life, it just keeps slipping further and further away from a controllable place. I don’t really drink much anymore, nor do I really go to many breweries anymore. It takes so much effort to put on a pair of leggings just to roll into MobCraft once a month anymore. I work a lot. Weird hours. I’m sad and angry a lot. Weird emotions. I’m tired. Oh so fucking tired. Constantly.
But way back in April I went to a brewery in Austin, Texas while I was there for a job interview (for a job I didn’t get). And I got drunk with a middle-aged Tito’s traveling salesman and one of the beertenders who I think might have said he was also like a head brewer or owner or something. And that was a fun time. If you can remember all the way back to April, the last post I had go live actually was written at this brewery and I was drunk when I wrote it and forgot that I wrote it until I saw it one Twitter. That’s wild. And exciting, for sure. Or such a constant bummer of a life that is lived solely for the comforts of alcohol. But regardless, here we are. I went to Hi Sign Brewing in Austin, TX.
Getting here was a trip because it was down a road that had a million warnings telling me not to go down the road. That there was no road and if I chose to pass all these signs telling me to turn back now without heeding there warning, I would almost surely be murdered. Or something. I’m not quite sure what they said. I just know that they did not want me to go down there. But I was bored, tired, and just had a four shot lavender latte with oat milk from some coffee shot and it was 5pm and I was ready to
go to bed party. But at the end of this road was a brewery! And I went inside of it.
When I got there, it was happy hour time and there were a few business-y people hanging out. I posted up at a table under a mural of Jay-Z (for some reason?) where I caught up on my socials and also worked on cranking out some content for this blog while drinking a beer.
The beers I drank were the Super Astronaut, Salty Dog (noted as “alright”), Hi-C (noted as “good, their most known beer”), No Scooters, and Mellow Johnny (noted as “good lager”). I should also mention that I think I drank more beers than this, because I had a flight of four pours and definitely continued to drink for hours after that, but that list only has five beers on it (four of which were in the flight), but I did not note them. But that is because, as I mentioned before, I got drunk with a traveling salesman who was in his fifties and we regaled each other with tales of seeing bands live and drinking in weird places and the one time he ended up dating a girl who was addicted to heroin but he decided that maybe he wasn’t a heroin guy (although he also assured me he was definitely a coke guy in the 80s).
The brewery had its garage doors open and although within the city limits of Austin, feels so set apart from the sprawling hipster city. Out back there were trees and a grassy area with some food stands. I know there was pizza being served out there because Mr. Tito’s ordered one and offered me some of it. (I declined, never take food from strange men trying to seem cool to a 26 year old girl who admitted to be traveling alone). But it was beautiful.
As I mentioned, especially in April, things were not going well. I was transitioning into a new cafe and a new role, I was constantly stressed about what I was going to do for money and work and a living. The weather in Wisconsin was still bitterly cold, we were still weeks away from our last snow fall, and months away from our first good weather day (that day just happen four days ago, but don’t worry, yesterday it was 40 degrees when I saw Jason Isbell OUTSIDE on the LAKE. Ugh.) But sitting somewhere that was moderately warm, with a warm breeze, cool beer, and the company of misfits and misfortunates in America’s leading Hipster Capitol (suck it Portland), everything felt wildly okay. Not great. Not even good. But okay. Like even if life was a constant drudging march of disappoint, there were moments like that, where you were an anonymous girl in a city far from home, shooting the shit with just some guys that you’ll never see again. That’s my brand.
They had good beer. I think that’s the main takeaway from the situation. I think that’s why no one comes here, to hear if a place has good beer. And this place does. And it has a relaxed, no frills, but wholly fulfilling vibe I didn’t find many place in Austin. It thrived in authenticity, which I often rail about and seem incapable of finding in newer cities. But this place was unpretentious and wholly good. 10/10 would recommend. Alright kids. Now go to bed.