Sometimes the worst service is the best.
Artisanal disappointment, small-batch and locally sourced
Seriously, only go here if you have to.
The Conference Hotel Bar
Every ops conference has one. It's in the hotel, it's called something like "American Craft" or "The Tap Room" or "Mosaic," it has sixteen beers on tap and will charge you $18 for the one you actually want. The TVs are showing three different sports simultaneously with no sound. The bartender is dealing with a table of fourteen who all want separate checks. You are on your third conversation about Kubernetes in four hours and you need a beer more than you've ever needed anything.
The conference hotel bar exists at the intersection of corporate expense reports, travel fatigue, and the particular social dynamic of people who spend most of the year working remotely and have approximately 72 hours to cram in every conversation they've been meaning to have. The beer is fine. The $18 is going on the company card. The conversation is the point. The bar is just the location.
Conference Swag and the Economics of Free Things
The vendor who sponsored the happy hour is hoping to get a meeting. You are hoping to get the beer they are paying for. Both parties understand this arrangement and are comfortable with it. The t-shirt in the tote bag will be worn once, to sleep, and then donated. The USB drive with the company logo will sit in a drawer for four years. The sticker will end up on a laptop that gets replaced before the sticker peels off. The meeting will not be scheduled. Everyone leaves satisfied.
I've been to better bars. I've been to worse conferences. The Venn diagram of "place I'd choose to drink" and "place I actually drank" at a conference is two separate circles connected only by the hotel and the expense report.— Everyone who has been to a conference, approximately
