So, 8:00, we're making good time due to my lead-lined shoes, and we pick up Adam.  I always feel kind of guilty around the start of a night with Adam; because I'm about to descend into a zone of chemical excess for which I should really seek more extensive health insurance, while Adam, little taste for liquor in him, will be there to translate my slurred speech, tell me when my eyes get too bloodshot, and, of course, taxi us around. But that’s the way he wants it too, this is covered ground, and we can never spend enough time on this electron gun aimed at your eyes, dear reader, to express out appreciation.  We're planning on photoshopping a halo around his photo at some point.  But it'll probably be just a cheap lens flare.  Anyway, so while we were in Adam's house I had to get a shot of this liquor cabinet, a little tower of Babylon, leading a path not to heaven, but to a bottle of Grey Goose.  I suppose the preceding text makes it clear that this is the work of his roommates... 

I love you, Tower of Liquor

But again, we couldn't dawdle, so it was off to parts downtown.  The wooden porches of Careytown gave way to corporate Richmond, suckling at a teat stamped "Capitol One"... not that we mind, there are some great bars nestled in those parking garages and cement ponds.  Our destination was Richbrau, a decent sized establishment spread over the first two floors of some high rise.  We walked through restaurant fare and up the stairs into bar proper, and started to feel out a niche.  We had plenty of time, a quick search revealed that we were going to be the only ones greeting Mike.

Richbrau is a brewpub, one of those places that probably puts the displayed steel fermentation tanks to good use, but you never can tell, can you?  I always get the suspicion that they're shams... in fact, I think I remember hearing that... isn't the beer you get at Sweetwater Tavern just stuff from Old Dominion, due to ABC regulations about selling on the premises something something?  Or maybe they can't bottle their stuff, I always forget.  Anyway, maybe Richbrau is making their own stuff, because microbrews are all they sell.  I heartily approve... nowhere is it written in stone that though shall have a Budweiser tap. 

Brian demonstrates "How to Pour Beer", a small selection of his lecture circuit offerings

Said beers run the gamut... a decent domestic alternative, Griffin Ale, is the cheapest, while Big Nasty Porter is an enjoyable stout.  Matt tried Expresso Stout, which is not technically a microbrew but a customized macro-production... they take Guinness and soak coffee beans in it.  The result is somewhat akin to the Old Dominion Oak Barrel Stout we're all in love, but different, Guinness has a unique taste that will remain if you add coffee beans or peppermints or marshmallow peeps or whatever... oh my god, I need to run this experiment.  Anyway, no one in our party was in sight, so we took a quick exploratory jaunt of the place. 

The upper level of Richbrau is pretty damn sizeable, it sprawls across several rooms, it can compartmentalize admirably.  We were missing a bit of space due to the northernmost section being reserved for a private party, but that's that... the room we were in was geared most to the business of drinking... it had a small bar, a few pool tables, foosball (which no-one was ever up for, screw all of you!), etc.  I'm glad we got pictures of the antler chandelier above the bar; Matt's the team hunter, I'm the Ghandi-esque spiritual leader; he knows penetration by caliber, I love all creatures, great and small; but, but, I can appreciate the cool of this chandelier.  It's really pointy!  Uh, about two feet elevated was the next room, another small bar, a few more pool tables... Richbrau doesn't have the resources to be a billiards hall, but it does have a lot of free space, they'd have to be doing incredible business for one to feel crowded.  The farthest room is the dance hall, probably equipped to be a bonefide club.  This was closed at 8:30, would open later, but maybe Matt can talk about that because I got scared off as soon as someone said the "D" word. 

Time was passing and we were getting nervous, this was planned as a surprise party, you know?  Everyone knows the classic surprise party scene, a whole crowd of people yelling at once in birthday salutations, but here we are, just the three of us, and Mike should be arriving soon, and fiancé Jazmine was the intelligence behind all this planning... anyway we were fretting about our singularity when Mike and Jazmine came up the stairs and brought all this to moot; we greeted and well wished and ordered drinks.  Mike approached our quarter-full pitcher and immediately finished it, mouth to spout, displaying the kind of bravado of consumption that has so defined the Aarka family lineage. 

Note to the public - Aarka is a fake family name that is used as part of an inside joke.  Check UVa's "Corks and Curls" to find out why it is funny.  Please refer to our FAQ [link] about why we do not include real last names.

    Jazmine (Mike's fiancé') had planned out a whole treasure map of activities for Mike to do *before* he even got to the bar to drink with us.  I believe it included a shot a eight different bars.  When Mike showed up, it took him awhile to realize that a crowd of his buds and kin were at Richbrau.  You could literally see the realization form over his face.  It was great.

Soon afterwards, more friends of Mike's were arriving; we were more and more a group.  Stories get pedestrian here, the normal talking drunken stuff we end up doing... anyway, good people, I think we all enjoyed ourselves.  Hmm, why does my narrative detail always falter as I get further into a bar tab? 

Very possibly the subject of the above conversation is onions.

Oh, we all ordered bar food at some point, appetizer fare trying to compensate for a lack of real diner.  Matt revealed that he doesn't like onion rings, a fact he claims to wear on his sleeve, but it's escaped my attention all these years.  Back in my younger days, we'd always be running out at 2:00 AM for onion rings, we developed treatises on how inferior onion ringers were to the genuine article... and these were good rings at Richbrau too, beer battered and from big cuts, and here's Matt, refusing them.  I'm the other extreme; onions make up a definable percentage of my nutritional intake (thankfully, very little in deep fried form), and onion rings are properly recognized as one of those great expressions of cuisine. 

The stories of my dislike for onions is true.  Frankly, anything but well sautee'd onions upset my stomach so it isn't really a taste thing.  I do however have a weakness for big soft pretzels, which was exactly what I ordered that night.  They were tasty and came with mustard sauce, although I made liberal use of Brian's tartar sauce as well (or was is horseradish - I don't recall clearly) (it was ranch, you were close - ed.).  I will say that if I *did* eat onions, the onion rings here looked quite good. 

The dance hall in Richbraus
 

Ideally, headbanging is synchronized.
 

Big American Dance Party!

Smoke, smoke, Matt and Mike!

.

We were out of Richbrau after midnight, and retired to Adam's house.  I displayed my ability to pratfall (and just one mysterious bruise the next morning, way to go!) and Matt practiced his stage acting violence by kicking me in the crotch.  We're considering taking an acting class in stage violence, although I don't know why, we're both already faux-combating at a 9th-grade level.  Adam brought us back to Mike's house after a bit, where we drifted off into couches and futons, spun and spent. 

Here is a picture of their fish, which we did not eat.  Why is it here?  I like fish.

Pay the tab and then it's out into the sunlight, springtime, which on a March 23rd following snow on snow is a huge novelty, a cause for celebration.  This was a beautiful day and we were out among beautiful people, Matt and I agreed that populations here in Richmond were skewing younger than we were used to. 

I liked this house because it is what I imagined the Addam's family mansion would look like on a sunny day. 

Beautiful local architecture

Mike showed us his wine shop, although I think we just have pictures of their beer section.  I also looked at their port... we really are barbaric at times.  There was also a lot of time spent in one of those novelty button and stuffed animal emporiums, but like everyone else there, we didn't spend a cent.

I forget what offense these people committed against us.  Even so, if found, please key this car.

OK, the car pic is my fault.  On the drive down and back we almost got clobbered by a bunch of car.  And you know what?  Four had Maryland plates and one was from Jersey.  The last time we drove down it was the same thing, damn Maryland drivers get scared and confused on our big scary interstates.  There outta be a law.  I've decided that when we drive far we need to click on all these plates and have a "rogue's gallery" at the end. 

We were on the road by 2:00, less than 24 hours in country.  But it seemed like a whole weekends worth of activity.  And that's Richmond for you, just as the innocuous foam carving can inflate for Dino-Terror, so is this city's ability to fill the nooks and crannies of your days.  Matt and I both agreed that, were we free to move... well, I'd live in the center of the earth, and Matt has friends among the lizard-men of Venus, but Richmond is a close second.