Confession one: I have never been to the Parkway Tavern.
Confession two: It’s been more than six years since I’ve had a real beer.
Confession three: I took the afternoon off of work to absolve myself of confessions one and two.  Before you go telling my boss, be advised, my boss commanded me to go drinking.  And it was good.
When a person is twitchy from hunger and frayed nerves and general fatigue, and a person heads into the darkish, soothing atmosphere of a tavern, there’s a certain magic, almost like that which happens with the rushing of a waterfall in the wilderness, or the trickling of a fountain in a spa.  Only, it’s the smells of hops and barley and all sorts of beery goodness that soothe.
Ostensibly I was there for the Day of IPAs, but the Parkway Tavern's IPA Festival is tomorrow, Aug. 19.  Not one to get hung up on specifics, I figured I’d have an IPA anyway.  Bellingham's Boundary Bay was the kind barkeeps’ recommendation.  After my first few pretzels, and the first glorious sips of that nectar from the heavens, all the worries and stresses and fatigue washed away from me.  Mmm, beer.
Ryan Loiselle came into the tavern.  I recognized him from , well, actually his painting.  We had a quick chat about his showing at the Kulture Lab next Saturday (Aug.  26, 7-10 p.m., The Catapult Gallery, 608 Fawcett, Tacoma), and the appearance of his band, Broken Oars, with Neutral Boy at Hell’s Kitchen.
And yeah.  About that IPA fest tomorrow, from noon to close.  I speculated, as I savored the hoppy bitter cold spritzy love in my glass, how good a bratwurst with amazingly strong German mustard would be as an accompaniment, and nearly wept when the barkeeps said they’d be grilling ‘em outside tomorrow. I wanted to whine, like Veruca Salt, “But I want a brat NOW.”
Only I didn’t.  I went home with a smile on my face, though. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler