Mountain Sun Pub and Brewery
1535 Pearl St.
Boulder, CO
What the heck am I doing in Boulder, Colorado — the most leftist city in the country?
Except, it’s not really because I don’t consider Boulder to be part of America.
That’s the life I live.
Tuesday I’m in Fort Worth, Texas, home of cattle, oil barons, and Billy Bob’s – the world’s largest honky-tonk. Where liberty reigns and men are still men.
Wednesday I’m in Boulder – where eco-freaks reign and the women are men and don’t shave their armpits.
My eyes are still bleeding from the things I saw.
But being a true, blue leftist requires a fanatical devotion to every form of diversity — except diversity in abilities or God-given talent.
You see, it’s just not fair that some people are better than others.
Clearly, any diversity in outcome is a product of America’s capitalist, oppressive, racist biases.
This philosophy is on full display at Mountain Sun Pub and Brewery, where every employee does every job in the restaurant – whether they’re actually good at it or not.
Every server is also a busser, a hostess, a brewer, a cook, and a toilet scrubber (I hope they wash their hands frequently).
And at the end of the night, all the employees pool their tips together to get redistributed equally.
How egalitarian.
It certainly wouldn’t be fair if one exceptionally good server made bigger tips than the rest of the staff.
But it seems to work fine here in Boulder where everyone cheerfully buys into the Communist Manifesto.
From the moment I walked in the door and made my way to the bar in the back of the dining room, at least four different members of the Mountain Sun staff offered to put my name on the waitlist and bring me a beer.
Within moments, eager employees were pushing free samples of freshly-brewed beer into my grateful hands. Each one enthusiastically described the various homemade brews.
“Go with the F.Y.I.P.A.,” one particularly cheerful employee suggested when I said I liked hoppy brews.
Good call. Hoppy, but not overpowering, the F.Y.I.P.A. had a nice sweet flavor.
But I had barely taken a sip when another young lady led me to my table and helpfully explained the menu.
Just as I was about to give her my order, Mr. ‘F.Y.I.P.A.’ reappeared and announced he would be my server.
I was so confused. I had only been in Mountain Sun Pub for five minutes and had already interacted with the entire staff. A bit overwhelming for an introvert like me.
As for what I ordered to eat, I went with the Speakeasy Steak Sandwich accompanied by handcut fries.
The thinly sliced marinated beef was tender and smothered in carmelized onions and mozzarella cheese. Horseradish and garlic mayo and giardiniera provided just a hint of spicy kick to keep my attention — and keep the beer flowing into my bloodstream.
The only downside to my delicious hoppy F.Y.I.P.A. was, where do I go from here?
My server brought out several samples of other high-potency concoctions, but none of them lived up to the F.Y.I.P.A.
Then I noticed the term “nitro” listed next to a few select beers on the list.
Yes. Mountain Sun nitrogenates, rather than carbonates, several of their beers.
Anyone who has ever won a beer chugging contest knows that nitrogenated brews like Guinness go down much smoother than their carbonated brethren.
But most nitro beers tend to be mild and bland like stouts and cream ales.
Just the thought of trying a hoppy beer like Mountain Sun’s XXX Pale Ale on nitro was enough to get me excited.
Sure enough, it looked like a work of art.
A thick, foamy head as white as Boulder’s famous snowcapped peaks and a golden body of hoppy deliciousness, this was one of the greatest beers I’ve ever experienced.
Without the distraction of carbonation, the full flavor of the XXX shined through. And as smooth as a baby’s bottom, this 7.5% alcohol beer slid down easy.
Real easy.
Two beers in (and so many free samples that I lost count), I was thanking myself for making the decision to walk, rather than drive, the one mile from my hotel.
Which made my next decision that much easier.
When asked, I said, “Hell, yeah,” to one more beer.
My night capper of Dropkick American Stout was well named. 6.5% alcohol, this was one manly black stout.
My head was spinning by the time my server brought the check and informed me they don’t take credit cards.
How fashionably anti-capitalist.
I may have been in an altered state of mind after so much craft beer, but I still wasn’t buying into Mountain Sun’s collectivist vibe.
However there was no questioning the top-notch service and enthusiasm displayed by the Mountain Sun staff.
But how can these good vibes thrive in the long-run?
Just as I was counting my twenties to pay for my evening of fun, I noticed a few cracks appearing in the communist façade.
My chipper server was exchanging his contact information with the customers.
“Boulder is great, but I need to get out of here,” he said.
“I’m looking for a job in finance in Washington DC. I’d really appreciate it if you could put in a good word for me.”
And you know what? That’s the beauty of the free market.
Everyone, even liberals, eventually gets tired of scrubbing toilets and wants to be recognized – and payed for – their individual abilities.
But you are going to have to leave Boulder for that.
Welcome to America, my friend.
Rating: Bought the Shirt!
