Beer On My Shirt: I Return To Tired Hands, Alone

J. R. Shirt, May 22, 2014

While the title “I Return To Tired Hands, Alone” might be better suited for a downtrodden memoir of lost love and self-pleasure, I choose to employ it for a much more straightforward purpose. Specifically, I would like to tell you about my lonely, triumphant return to the Tired Hands Brewing Company.

While driving to Tired Hands, I experienced a thickly goatee-ed man driving aggressively through traffic in a purple PT Cruiser. For a brief moment the world seemed like the kind of place where everything you expect to happen actually happens.

Shortly thereafter while stopped at a traffic light, a young man got out of his car and slowly walked around to each of his four tires, giving each a light kick. Satisfied that they were indeed tires and not holograms or tire-shaped clouds or wheels of soft cheese, the young man returned to his car and drove off. I was convinced I was inside a dream.

Upon arriving at my destination, I was confronted with a Twin Peaks-esque parking conundrum. Next to Tired Hands is a dirt lot. Based on the cars parked there, I assumed it was a parking lot. However, as I got closer I noticed a hand painted sign that said “No Parking.” Thinking that perhaps the sign implied that the lot was full, I stopped and scanned the lot to make sure there were open spaces. Then, just as I had made up my mind to ignore the sign and pull into the lot, a man appeared next to the “No Parking” sign. He stood there wearing an outfit best described as “down on my luck” and stared at me, goading me to park in the lot. It is equally possible he was just waiting to cross the street. Or he was an under-dressed valet. Regardless, I crumbled under the pressure and parked two blocks away. I patted the sweat from my brow with a kerchief.

(To clarify, I feel I should mention that I parked two blocks away and started sweating not because I felt unsafe, but because I did not want to socially interact with another human.)

Once inside Tired Hands, I quickly found a seat at the bar, felt alone, and wondered why I didn't invite Wife along, or more appropriately – why she didn't invite herself. I ordered the pickle du jour. It was one the greatest pickles I have ever eaten. It almost made me forget that I was alone, at a bar, eating a pickle, quietly moaning in sad delight.

For beer I ordered a HopHands – an American Pale Ale brewed with oats and hopped with Amarillo, Simcoe, and Centennial hops. A few weeks prior I had stopped in on my way home from the in-laws only to get a growler or two and was blown away by the Gelatinous Womb DIPA. It was brought to my attention that due to the nature of Tired Hands' small batch operation (only 12 barrel batches, I believe) once Gelatinous Womb was gone, it would be some time before it would be up on their chalkboard again. So this time around I wanted something they featured regularly, if not constantly, and that something was the delicious HopHands.

It should be noted that I also had a plate of candied bacon, at which point I no longer felt alone. In fact, it was at this point that I felt a oneness with all things candied and bacon and knew I would never feel alone again. Arriving home that evening, in a show of solidarity, I candied all my denim. The stove is ruined. As is the office chair I am currently stuck to. I assume my leg hair will grow back. Wife is not so sure. It turns out I don't really understand “candy” as a verb.

HopHands, Tired Hands Brewing Company (4.26 BAR, 108 Style+)

Appearance = 4.75/5

Pale straw yellow color, just a bit a of haze, and a thing layer of airy white head.

Smell = 4.5/5

Lemon, cut grass, and a hint of fresh orange.

Taste = 4.75/5

The taste follows the nose in a real nice way with lemon, grass, and citrus. It had a dry bitterness but still managed some juicy, citrus flavors in the middle. The finish had a hint of bready yeast that pleasantly reminded me of a subtle Pilsner or Belgian Pale Ale – I couldn't quite make up my mind.

Feel = 5/5

The beer had tiny bubbles and a prickly carbonation that was a great crisp compliment to the dry bitterness and slick juice of the citrus in the middle. One sip seemed to lead to another.

Overall = 4.75/5

Delicious, subtle, refreshing, and unique. Great hop characteristics without overpowering. Very drinkable.

Follow J. R. Shirt on Twitter and Untappd @beeronmyshirt