For Beer Lovers, Christmas is here.
The 20th annual Oregon Brewers Fest officially kicked off today (Thursday) at noon and runs through Sunday.
One of the largest craft-brewing festivals in the country (would you expect any less from Brewvana?), the festival is expected to draw over 50,000 beer lovers from across the States.
Boasting brews from 73 breweries, including nearly all of Portland’s beloved breweries as well as offerings from across the country, the festival is a beer lover’s dream come true, a gathering place for hop heads and casual drinkers alike.
For the past 20 years, OBF has turned Tom McCall Waterfront Park into a massive carnival of drunken anarchy, beer snobbery and all-out alcohol awesomeness, drawing huge and thirsty crowds with live music, food, presentations and, of course, enough suds to fill a stadium.
For those new to the festival, entry is free. To drink, a commemorative and reusable mug must be purchased for $4. To get beer, tokens must be purchased for $1. Each token is good for a 4 oz. taste, and four tokens will get the mug filled. Expect big crowds, long lines and a lot of giggling.
Drinking is, of course, limited to the 21+ crowd, but this year minors are also allowed on the premises, making it a great place for kids to watch dad get loaded and hear him say “fuck” a few times.
Along with the beer, people watching is a massive draw—and the event is about as diverse a cultural melting pot as you’re likely to find in Portland. For the most part, it’s an immensely friendly crowd of smiling faces and stumbling strides. And like any massive gathering, the archetypes come out in full force.
With maximum enjoyment in mind, WW has assembled a list of nine people you might meet at the OBF. Naturally, average Joes and happy campers have been omitted, stereotypes have been embraced and consideration to feelings has been tossed out the window.
We encourage you to post on wweek.com with your own archetypes.
The Beer Snob
OBF is a SNOB’s paradise. The Supporters of Native Oregon Beer come out en masse, and many make an entire weekend of it, vying to taste as many of the beers as their livers will allow. SNOBS can be identified in many ways, the easiest of which is to look for their t-shirts. More covert super-SNOBs can be observed sniffing their beers like a wine-connoisseur, commenting on body and making comments on which specific kind of yeast was used in the brewing process. They’re also known—as many connoisseurs are—to speak extra loud in archaic beer speech in attempts to be heard sounding smart and pretending not to be drunk. SNOBs are a great resource for beer knowledge, and most are kind enough to share their beer advice with you.
The Wrecking Ball
His mission, should he choose to accept it, is to make a beeline to all the beers with the highest ABV (alcohol by volume) concentration and drink until he’s stumbling into blind oblivion. This species of mad-bull drinkers is easily identifiable—he’s the dude who plows through the long lines, practically body-checking anyone in his path. He’s usually pretty apologetic about it, and will gladly help you towel spilled beer off your body with his Abercrombie T-shirt.
The Crunked Casanova and Cougar
OBF is a celebration of beer and love, and you can bet your ass that people are looking for a bit of heavy petting. Male or female—young and old—the Crunked Casanova or Cougar will start the evening incredibly smooth, making the romantic rounds and spouting lines Barry White would be proud of. But with each beer, this love hunter gets rougher around the edges, until almost any slurred pickup line (“That shirt would look better on my floor”) will ooze out of the mouth and groping becomes a viable form of flirting. Members of this species of festival-goers tend to find one another toward the end of the night and direct their misguided dry-humping at one another, making for some hysterical conversational eavesdropping and awkward public affection.
The Amoeba of Dude
There they are. The 12 dudes who rolled into the fest together, intent on drinking some beers and getting busy with the ladies. Problem with the Amoeba of Dude is that the collective organism of testosterone tends to cling together in a circle that’s just wide enough to pass through. Yet as you walk by, they come together, effectively trapping a passer-by in the circle with no palpable exit. They roam from spot to spot, forming their diabolical circle and blocking lines as they jabber.
“I Love You” Man
“I love you, man. Seriously, I’m so glad I met you. It’s not just because I’m drunk. I’d be saying this even if we were in church.” Trouble with “I Love You” Man is that you just met him or her, and all that love comes gurgling out every time you pass by. But hey, love is love, and “I Love You” Man has nothing but love to give. Maybe too much of it.
Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Drunk
Everybody knows these people. They start the evening talking about philosophy or other loaded conversational topics you really don’t care to hear (this is often a co-worker or casual acquaintance you’ve run into at the fest). But with each passing hour, a monster begins to emerge. Suddenly, you’ve gone from listening to rambling conversation about Nietzsche to helping this poor soul to the port-o-potty, making excuses for the Doctor’s decision to make snide or overly sexual comments to strangers or—even worse—throwing his or her drunk ass in a cab. The bright side? Dr. Jekyll makes for great, behind-their-back water cooler conversation.
Captain Volume
It’s no secret that alcohol makes you loud, but Captain Volume simply has no control over decibel levels. Standing within inches of this increasingly loud subject could cause hearing loss. With each drink, this person becomes a veritable banshee, and as the crowds get bigger, so does the volume. Funny thing is, Captain Volume does not realize this. So when he comments on some girl’s ass or she starts blabbering about personal problems, it enters the public realm, becoming quite embarrassing (for you, not for blottoblivious Captain V).
The Incidental Therapy Patient
Warning: Whenever a drunken stranger starts to talk to you about his or her problems, promptly excuse yourself. Otherwise, once you start listening (or just nodding politely), the therapy session will never end. “Daddy never loved me.” “My ex doesn’t return my calls,” “My cat gives me dirty looks.” Take it from me, I’ve been locked into one-sided conversations with the Incidental Therapy Patient for upwards of four hours. Once they jump on that imaginary couch, there’s no going back.
The Token Merchant
Both friend and foe, the Token Merchant walked into the festival and bought 50 tokens. After the first 20 tastes, they realized the gravity of the situation, and at the end of the night you can expect to be bombarded by people selling tokens at discounted prices. Up until Saturday, this can be a great deal. But on Sunday, the Token Merchant becomes a diabolical bastard trying to unload as many as possible. Drunk suckers will purchase the tokens without realizing that they’re no longer of any use when the festival’s last call is announced. Remember: Tokens have no real world value, and cannot be redeemed at bars.
The Oregon Brewers Fest, Tom McCall Waterfront Park (entrance at Southwest Oak Street and Naito Parkway). Thursday-Saturday, noon-9 pm. Sunday noon-7 pm. Last call 30 minutes before closing. FREE. All ages. 
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Tags: Outdoors
