Midweek Drinking #5: Meet The Parents.

Shit name, half arsed beer (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

Shit name, half arsed beer (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

Tuesday 17th December. I’m counting this as ‘midweek’. I meet my friend Cath in City Arms. There are Christmas beers on, I dive in. First in my hand is Holly Daze from Vale Of Glamorgan brewery. Pretty bland. No fire, no Santa, just sort of brown ale. Bit boring.

We encroach on a group’s kinesphere to snare some seating. It’s a new word to me, I’m totally using it.

Like a tiny set of screwdrivers, functional but boring (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

Like a tiny set of screwdrivers, functional but boring (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

We sit right by the bar so it’s easy to order a Wickwar Brewing Co. Christmas Cracker Surprise Winter Ale. The surprise being that it tastes of dishwater. Do these breweries just bang out their leftovers at Christmas? Presumably they do.

Lavigant. Second new word of the day. We made this one up though, it’s a cross between extravagant and lavish and in no way describes Christmas ale.

Recommended by absolutely everyone.

Recommended by absolutely everyone (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

Bosun James Grey. 58 IBUs. Top end of my 40 to 60 tolerance and I once had a Hopcraft beer that tasted of a long distance athlete’s underpants. This is lovely though. The Landlord actually came over to my table and recommended it. Smells of Canaries. Tastes of spring time, cut grass and golf courses.

Gazza? THE Gazza?

Gazza? THE Gazza? (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

My Mum and Dad have arrived, they’ve have gone for this too. Within minutes we’re discussing porn names. For the uninitiated, it’s your first pet’s name and you mother’s maiden name. I’ve no idea how this conversation happened but my Dad is Sally Laing, my Mum is Tiddles Campbell. For the record, I’m Pussy Bowen. Cath is Biff Anthony.

Everyone else sticks to the same beer next but I go for the Wispa. Pretty malty. Smells fuckloads like Dime Bars. Quite sweet. I like it. I think.

My Dad, who has really only seen me drink lager, looks astonished that I've ordered this.

My Dad, who has really only seen me drink lager, looks astonished that I’ve ordered this (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

On to Tap House with parents in tow, they’re supposed to be getting the 21.50 train to Cwmbran. This looks unlikely. I order a Tiny Rebel Vader Shuffle. This is chocolate-y, banana-y, caramel-y goodness. Mum thinks it tastes of sweet whiskey. She’s got a point.

Mum and Dad go for FUBAR. Mum wants an actual Tiny Rebel bear. Gazz and Brad, take note. Massive merch opportunity.

Mum and Dad have now decided they’ll get a train to Newport and a cab to Cwmbran. The last train to Cwmbran is 20 past midnight and ‘that’s too late’.

Moor Brewery Smokey Horyzon. This smells of a dentist waiting room and bacon. I hate dentists but this is great. I never thought I’d like TCP flavoured beer but fuck yeah.*

Sophie. Getting ever more creepy.

Sophie. Getting ever more creepy (Photo attributed to Matt Jarrett)

Siren Craft Brew Soundwave. Nice. Jazz style. My Dad says it’s ‘quarter tidy’.

It’s half 11. One more pint and they might as well get the last train. Nods all round.

I have a Wild Brewing Co. Epic Season. Ooh, malty. And malteserery. It’s pretty epic, I’ll give them that. Probably fine to consume between meals too.

The parents’ leave having been sucked in to the midweek drinking experience. I’m sure they’ll be back.

*In the cold, sober light of day, I have no idea why I liked a beer that tasted of antiseptic.


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