pull
v. tr.
1. To apply force to, so as to cause or tend to cause motion toward the source of the force.

This past Friday and Saturday I could feel my favorite bar calling to me as I drove home from Louisville.

I was able to resist that calling, telling myself that if I couldn't even spend one weekend away from Rich O's then maybe there was indeed a problem.

Today, on the way home from work, I felt the pull again, and this time I relented.

I stopped and got myself a pizza, and while I was waiting I decided - what the hell - I'd have myself a beer.

What I had was a Robert The Bruce scottish ale. I'd never had this before, but I was definitely intrigued by its scottish name. After my experience with the Pyramid Tilted Kilt ale in June I'm not very likely to pass up any scotch or scottish (I forget the difference) ales anytime soon.

This was really good. If it's still there when I next make a weekend trip to Rich O's I'll definitely be having more. I actually noticed three things that really stood out. First was the reddish color that revealed itself when I held the glass up to the light. Second was the slight gritty feeling that continued until the head had dissipated, and third was the slightly bitter aftertaste - something new to me in my limited experience with this style of ale.