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“Silly question alert,” I said. “Of course I like beer. You’re off to a good start.”
The relief on his face was palpable. He was really nervous. To help calm him down, I clutched his arm like he was escorting me on a proper date.
It was a cool place with an industrial feel—lots of exposed ductwork, with the stainless steel brewery equipment visible behind a glass wall on one side. A sign instructed customers to order at the bar and then seat themselves.
“I’ll grab a table while you get drinks,” I said.
“What do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“You’re inviting me to choose poorly,” Andy said.
I rubbed my hand on his back. “My beer fate is in your hands. Don’t fuck it up.”
Most of the place was already full, but I was able to snag two chairs at the end of one of the long wooden tables. Andy zig-zagged through the room with a wooden tray of beers a few minutes later.
“I couldn’t decide what you would like, so I got a beer flight,” he said as he put the tray down. Six small glasses were arranged in a line, each one a darker color than the last.
“That’s cheating!” I said. “I wanted to see if you had good taste in beers.”
He sat across from me and smiled. “I figured that was a test, so I decided to cheat and fill in all the answers.”
I picked up the first glass and clinked it to his. “I figure that’s worth a B. B+ maybe.”
We sipped on the beers, sharing them so we could each have a taste. There was a blonde ale, a porter, and three red ales that were very sour. Neither of us liked the sours—another point in Andy’s favor—so we play-fought over who got to sip the other drinks.
“It’s a good thing you ordered the flights instead of guessing what I liked,” I teased. “If you had bought me a full pint of sour beer, I would have ended the date immediately.”
“Good thing,” he said, cheeks reddening. He was so bashful that even the most innocent compliment made him blush! I wanted to tell him that someone as handsome and chiseled had no business being so shy, but such a blunt compliment about his looks would probably make his cheeks explode.
Once the beer flights were gone, Andy went back to the bar and returned with two full pints. “A blonde ale for me, and the porter for you.”
I smiled widely. “That’s more like it.”
“And a plate of brisket queso is on the way.”
I blinked. “Brisket queso?”
“Oh man, yeah. You’ve got to try it.”
It ended up being a plate of tortilla chips and a bowl of bubbling orange dip. In the middle of the cheese dip was a huge dollop of guacamole. I picked up a chip and dipped it inside. The cheese had bits of brown beef mixed in.
I didn’t think I was going to like it, but my mouth exploded with flavor. “Holy shit!”
He nodded eagerly. “I know, right?”
We barely talked while wolfing down the brisket queso, and when it was gone Andy went back to order a second plate and more beer. Only when the second plate was half finished did we slow down enough to talk.
“So,” I said, gesturing with a chip. “First date question time. Where are you from?”
He seemed more relaxed after a few beers, which in turn made me relax. He swallowed the chip he was eating and said, “Panama City.”
My mouth hung open. “Like, in Panama? You’re not American?”
Andy shook his head. “Sorry. Panama City, Florida. Out on the panhandle.”
“Ahh, that’s a lot less exotic.”
