RE: The Cream Always Rises

I visited Harry's on Marshall Street to check out the Guinness Surger technology first-hand.

Disclaimer: Harry's caters to the fraternity/sorority/idiot crowd. The bar's bartenders (women no older than me) specialize in making cheap well drinks and opening $1.50 Bud Lights. This is not a bar to attend if you are looking for quality beer or knowledgable bartenders.

The first few minutes of the Harry's experience satisfied me. The bar hadn't lied--Harry's did indeed have a Surger, as the poster outside endorsing the new product said. When I asked the bartender for a Guinness, she knew what beer I was referring to.

Then things started slipping away. She asked me if I wanted a bottle or a can of Guinness. Neither answer really works since Guinness is best served in a pint glass (which I noticed were sitting right behind the bartender).

I told her I wanted a Surger Guinness, and clearly pointed to the device. It seemed to me that she understood what I was talking about because she went over to the bar cooler and grabbed the special Surger can.

However, her understanding of the beer apparently went no further than her ability to read the label.The bartender cracked open the can and, after putting a small bit of water in the Surger base, placed the can on the device and pressed the start button.I watched in anticipation, waiting for the foam to come out of the opening of the can so I could explain why the bar should stop serving Guinness.

But the moment never came. She grabbed the can from the base and poured the beer into the glass (which completely defeated the purpose of the Surger--to provide the perfect pour without the bartender's help).

I paid $5 for the misunderstood beverage and took my beer. As I turned away, the bartender suggested that I wait a bit for the beer to settle. I wanted to thank her for the sage advice, but bit my tongue. Trying to educate a college town bartender on the finer points of beer just seemed like a futile battle to me.

As if the Guinness acquisition wasn't bad enough, I had to endure a fraternity idiot jacked up on cocaine and Red-Headed Sluts while trying to figure out the differences between this ruined Surger Guinness and regular tap Guinness. The idiot decided that the narrow area between the bar and some booths made for a great place to practice his offensive line technique. His less drunk but equally stupid fraternity brothers obliged him.

I came away from Harry's with a simple lesson: Never try to appreciate beer at a bar where of-age drinkers throw temper tantrums about getting their cranberry-flavored shots.