Extending My Southern Hospitality

In the interest of being a good representative of my adopted city, I played tour guide tonight to an out-of-town visitor.

At issue was how much I could show a non-local on a dark, rainy night, hardly prime sightseeing time. Luckily I didn't have to work at it too hard because he'd already gotten a few recommendations from a local bartender about must-sees. I just had to fill in the cracks.

With that in mind, I figured the least I could do was start with our most scenic boulevard, Monument Avenue and try to wow him that way. He was impressed, more with the houses than the lesson in Civil War history, but that may have been owing to my less-than-detailed history lesson.

The first place he'd been told to experience was Mekong, no doubt due to his home-brewing habits. Or maybe just his love of good beer. An was behind the bar, so they discussed what he likes and An made his recommendations. Fortunately for a non-beer drinker like me, they had one decent tequila.

A beer and wine geek friend was also in attendance, which worked out well because I was able to provide the visitor with a kindred soul with whom to discuss such things. The funny part was when my friend suggested Capital Ale House at Innsbrook to the visitor as the place to go for the largest beer offerings.

Obviously the visitor didn't know me well enough to realize that I was already at the outer limits of the city as far as I'm concerned, making my friend laugh at even the thought that I might venture further west. Not happening.

But I'd already promised that I'd take him to Commercial Taphouse, which delivered on several levels. First and most importantly, they had cask ale, a fact which apparently couldn't delight a home brewer (or true beer geek) more.

He happily ordered some and I told him of my recent curiosity about experiencing it, here, and what guy can resist giving a girl a first experience? So I had my first cask ale and I'd have to say it was way more interesting than any beers I've tasted in the past. I should have known I could trust an art-lover for beer advice,

We were several hours in to our evening at this point and both hungry, so we decided to eat and here's the funny part. The visitor looked at the menu, looked at me and asked, "Do you eat ribs?" It was to laugh. Of course I eat ribs, but according to him, "Most girls don't." How's that for a blanket generalization?

So we got a half rack and the Ploughman's platter (which inexplicably now comes with leaves of romaine lettuce in addition to toast, which the visitor used to make ploughman wraps, giving him points for creativity, at least in my book). "Eat this," he directed so I did.

Earlier in the car we had furthered our music talk and one band he had specifically mentioned was the English post-punk band Killing Joke, with whom I was not familiar. In a truly odd coincidence, while in Commercial, they played a Killing Joke song off their 1980 debut album.

He was thrilled and I got a frame of reference for his description. Now what were the chances of such a thing happening?

Our final stop was my choice and what I had planned to do before getting a call from the help-a-visitor foundation. Julep was hosting a benefit for Tricycle Gardens and I wanted to do my part to support community gardening.

We arrived around 10:30 for the 8:30 event and it was packed with other do-gooders (okay, drinkers). I ran into a girlfriend I hadn't seen in a year and we caught up; she's still not dating, either.

Probably not your typical list of must-sees, but he sure seemed to enjoy them all. Or maybe it was the sparkling local company.

And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.