May 11th 2016 was one of the saddest, most
disappointing days of my life.
I know what you’re thinking; What happened to this poor sap? Did he lose
a loved one? Get laid off? Was forced to binge-watch Friends on DVD (Could
I be anymore sarcastic?)?
No, unfortunately it was
much worse, for on May 11th I visited Rogue Ales (Brewers on the
Bay) in Newport, Oregon.
I was
looking forward to the visit as I had been acquainted with the delectable beers
of this Oregon-based brewer for many years, having happily discovered “Dead
Guy” nearly by accident at a local Total Wine. I was more than excited to get
to see the rest of their offerings first hand.
My
girlfriend and I arrived around 5 o’clock to a mostly empty restaurant and
about a ¾ full bar. There was no greeter when we entered so we both used that
time to take in the ambience. My eyes deftly scanned the bar; I saw many
bountiful beer offerings as well as Rogue-brand spirits, much to my delight.
Against the closest wall I noticed stacks of beautiful bombers. Closest to us
in a small alcove that the host or hostess might’ve operated from (had there
been one) were soft cotton t-shirts, in a rainbow of colors, emblazoned with
the awe-inspiring Rogue lettering and logo. I wanted to shout “Here, take my
money you clever brewing Gods!”
But
something was amiss. There still hadn’t been anyone there to greet us, seat us,
and let us know that they’d be happy to help us…
…Again
I glanced to the t-shirt area. On second look there had been a young lady back
there. Apparently she was getting ready for her shift, or killing time during
it (hard to tell?). She didn’t make eye contact, even after my girlfriend and I
tried optically flagging her down.
Finally,
a young lady approached. She grabbed two menus and said hello. Finally, the
delay in seating was just a temporary snag. Everything
is going to be ok, I whispered to myself.
“Are
you talking to yourself again?” my girlfriend asked.
Mental
note, Whisper inside your head I reminded
myself.
As the
second young lady walked us to our table, she paused and hollered at the shy
one that was still seemingly trapped inside the t-shirt area up front. “Do you
want to take them?”
Them? Them? Clearly, I reasoned this
server had mistaken us for some average everyday nobodys out for a rare
non-Budweiser excursion. We were craft beer lovers (definitely), craft beer
snobs (maybe), ready to drink and rejoice after a long day on the road. Further
it didn’t matter to myself or my girlfriend who waited on us, but why discuss
that in front of us?
I
immediately got a bad feeling about sitting in the dining area. This place
serves alcohol; we came here to sample some adult beverages, so by God let’s
sit at the bar!
“Ma’am,”
I asked meekly, “would you mind if we sat at the bar?”
“Sure,
no problem,” the server said with a smile. Eagerly, I led my girlfriend over to
the pulpit of the pub. We took two seats, as two individuals on the far side of
the bar were paying their tabs and leaving.
I
rubbed my hands together and scooped up a beer menu. I couldn’t help but sprout
a grin.
“Oh you
two decided to sit at the bar?” came a voice from behind me.
I
turned and saw the female staff member that had been stuck at the t-shirt area
since we had walked in. “Umm ya, we asked your co-worker…” I informed her.
“Hmm…”
and the young lady turned on her heels and strode away, never to be seen again
(by me anyway).
We were
then greeted by our first bartender. She asked (as is always appropriate at a
bar) if we would like a drink. To which we replied yes and ordered. We were
also given a complementary taster of a featured beer, which was a nice and
unexpected touch.
Before
we finished our first pints our bartender was ending her shift. Her replacement
arrived about the same time as a boisterous group of, shall we say “mature”
gentlemen who were very much regular patrons of this establishment.
How do
I know this you ask? Simple, as the men arrived and our new bartender took
over, the manager on duty took the new bartender aside to show her how to make
the ring leader’s favorite drink. “You mix this, and this. And he has to have it with a glass of water,” I
overheard him say. To which the bartender replied, “I hate those guys, they are
so scary.”
However,
at Rogue it seems “hate” translates to exceptional, unparalleled service. As it
turned out we must’ve been well liked there, because we got the opposite.
A few
minutes passed and our beers were depleted. We didn’t see the bartender again
until she was summoned to the bar by the manager, who proceeded to give her a
lecture about refrigerating the garnishes and fruit wedges.
Several
more minutes passed, and my girlfriend and I were able to watch the group of
regulars have a great time. They laughed, they swapped stories- which my
girlfriend and I did as well- we just did it without any beer.
More
time was wasted, and no one came to check on us. We had already given up on
another beer due to the wait. However, as she was making her way past, we asked
if we could pay for any of the bombers along with our regular bar tab, rather
than up front. She obliged, and I went in search of some delicious brew. I was
determined not to let this visit cloud my view of Rogue. I snapped up a bomber
for myself and my gal, and went back to the bar.
Surprise,
surprise: still no bartender. So again, my girlfriend and I waited, and my
confidence and excitement about Rogue dwindled, until alas the minutes had
ebbed away and I found I no longer cared
about Rogue.
“Do you
want a shirt?” my girlfriend asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nah,
I’ll pass.” deflated, I stared at my empty glass.
I
returned the bombers to their original location, and when I myself returned to
the bar there was finally a bartender behind it.
“Can we
get our check please?” my girlfriend shouted to her as she rushed by.
“Oh of
course, you don’t want another beer?” the bartender asked precociously and I
found myself wondering if she was actually being facetious.
My
girlfriend placed a stern hand over my arm- only because she couldn’t reach my
mouth. Luckily, I got her point and bit my tongue.
And
speaking of tongues, I am now pretty certain that I mine won’t ever taste
another Rogue beer again.
UPDATE: (5/26/2016) A representative from Rogue reached out
to me and has informed me the establishment has made changes in service
standards at the specified location. And despite the company's ne'er-do-well persona the rep was very understanding and polite ;) . The matter was attended to quickly and
resolved to my satisfaction. I am proud to say I am a Rogue customer once
again!
