A close encounter with Bud Light girl. Then, beers at The Hill
I have developed a new strategy for finding the best bar to watch the Ravens game.
It's only taken me five years, but I have it: Pick a neighborhood and scout all of the bars one by one at least 90 minutes before the game starts. Very scientific, I know. But it works. At least, it worked last Saturday.
Our party of game watchers started at Ropewalk Tavern, which had no open tables. Then a friend and I went to Mad River (Mother's looked wall-to-wall packed). Mad River had more elbow room, but still no tables.
As I was walking out of Mad River, I spotted someone familiar. She was wearing Bud Light apparel. It was my arch-nemesis -- Bud Light Girl.
I tried to avoid her. I tried to stride past her at a brisk pace. No luck -- she saw me anyway.
Her eyes briefly widened, and she turned to her friends (also Bud Light girls, I believe) and said, "THAT'S HIM!" ...
I was not about to stick around and find out. I could see the headlines: "Bud Light Mafia pummels local nightlife columnist in South Baltimore bar."
So I blew past Bud Light Girl, bee-lined out the door and never looked back.
Several minutes later, when my heart finally stopped racing, I hit up The Hill. It was half-empty at 6:45 p.m. Sweeeeeeeet!
The staff was accommodating; they pushed together two tables and moved one of the flat screen TVs. Since our waitress took a while between visits (she was stretched thin covering a bunch of tables), we began ordering two beers each at the same time.
Soon after, the table was covered in full glasses of Garde Dog, a lip-smacking French biere de garde made by Flying Dog. The more Indy stomped the Ravens, the more we drank to console ourselves. We were feeling pretty warm and fuzzy by the end of the game.