Wood Tavern in the Design District can suck it. Before going, I looked it up online. Its Website holds itself ransom in exchange for your email address which is effing weak. Pulling up, I suspected that, based on its location in a questionable neighborhood whose building’s walls were covered in professional Street Art, I may not be cool enough for the scene. Fast forward to the eclectically attired bartender who saw fit to serve every hipster and their mother before us. I received a dirty look when I ordered a Miller Lite and was told that their only domestic beers were “Heineken Light or Amstel Light” (domestic to whom?). Hey Bartender, what if I was ordering my Miller Lite ironically? I’m sorry if my clean-cut appearance and $2.99 top-I-got-on-clearance-from-Old-Navy offends you, but I was homeless and white-with-dreadlocks when you were in middle school, sneaking eyeliner out of your Goth older brother’s make-up bag. And unlike the adorable, androgynous, cooler-than-thou patrons you chose to serve first, I can actually afford to tip you.