Fast forward to 9:30pm and I headed to Harvard Square to meet them for a drink at Om, an Asian fusion restaurant/bar. We had a drink there, before splitting a grilled banana split. It just so happened to be one of the hottest and muggiest nights ever, and the bar apparently was trying to conserve energy because the air wasn't on, just open windows. We decided to leave before the DJ started playing because it was only a matter of time before the entire bar turned into a sweat box. We wanted to grab another drink and debated among the different places nearby, even walking over to Russell House Tavern, before deciding on the outdoor bar at Legal's at the Charles Hotel. I think this is the 3rd time this particular spot has popped up on my blog, but it really is that nice.
We got seats right at the bar and ordered a round. Here is where the epic debate began. Ronny ordered a beer, and once the foam disappeared the beer wasn't completely full. We launched into a heated conversation about when it was okay to ask the bartender to fill it up more. Ronny thought it was perfectly acceptable to ask the bartender to top it off, but I said if he did that I'd have to go inside and die of pure mortification. This series of photos documents where the level of beer would need to be for me to complain and also shows you just how full Ronny's beer was.
{Here is the beer in question. I don't think it is dramatically empty.}
{Here is the level to which I would complain. Ronny had obviously taste tested the beer before this photo.}
{And here is Ronny calling me crazy.}
{And calling me crazy, again.}
Ronny didn't say anything. I don't know why I was so against it, I just thought it was such a small thing that it really shouldn't require a complaint. It's not as if his iced coffee was dramatically empty, or his dinner was completely wrong. I could just picture Ronny asking for them to re-fill it, and then if we ordered another round, mine would get spat in. This is how my mind works. Completely rational.
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