To whom it may concern: They do not serve sugar-free red bull.
And while the above statement doesn't affect me in any capacity. I took great pleasure in hearing it repeated over and over and over again by the bartenders of Roast, as they hurriedly worked to serve alcoholic beverages (and one hell of a fry basket) to bar full of patrons while surrounded by walls covered in a masterfully compiled craft beer list... for a college bar, that is.
It was in this moment that I finally came to appreciate the phrase, 'with age comes wisdom'. I was older than everyone in this bar and for one of the first times in recent years, I was okay with being the grandma of the bar scene as I sipped my tastefully brewed draft beer amongst the stacks of Bud light left on the tables and otherwise tasteful and trendy decor.
Now, I told myself I wasn't going to review any of the bars I went to during Freakfest, but Roast managed to avoid the holiday hell and promote themselves in a way that seemed like it was fairly representative of what a normal night out here would be, and I appreciated the heck out of it.
Of all the many bars and businesses we went to that evening, Roast was the only one you'd find me patronizing on my own volition on a regular day... plus, (as mentioned earlier) basket-o-fries. Yes. Count me in and count me in balls deep. Fry me.