The Fine Art of Talking about Nothing
Drew - master of humor and the barstool - may have met his match at Laudenbach Brewery in one Mr. Scott. Pull up a stool and find out why.
By Drew Gallagher
HUMORIST
There is a phenomenon quietly emerging in our area that may be the equal to the rare appearance of the Northern Lights in Stafford County.
Laudenbach Brewing (45 Centreport Parkway, Suite 101, Fredericksburg, VA 22406) held its soft opening at the end of 2024 and recently had its official grand opening on January 18. The microbrewery, located in a strip mall that is also home to House of Cheer which, despite its name, is not a brewery but rather the premier all-star cheerleading gym in Stafford according to its website, is what one would describe as a destination brewery, since it is not within walking distance of much unless you want to brush up on your tumbling.
Laudenbach offers a fine assortment of German-inspired beers, but what is capturing the attention of its owner and many of its patrons is the fact that beer sales soar when a particular beertender is behind the bar. That beertender is Stafford native Dale K. Scott. I asked his mother if the K stood for King of All Beertenders.
“No,” said Kathy Scott when contacted by phone at her home in South Carolina.
According to Laudenbach owner Zach Guy, if you look at the five biggest grossing days for the brewery there is one common denominator beyond the beers on tap and that is Dale. (Please note that this humorist has only been present for two of Laudenbach’s highest grossing days.)
“It is impossible to have a gloomy mood when Dale enters the brewery,” said Guy. “After he brushes away the four-leaf clovers that surround him and the angels refrain from their choir, what emerges is the best fortune a brewer could have. He sets up at the taps with a focus and drive that can’t be ignored. Then he is off to the races, filling every glass with intent and haste to keep up with the crowd that he inherently brings in to enjoy the brews.”
Dale’s beertender origins were humble and started with sneaking into wooded areas off Route 610 and trying to pour Pabst Blue Ribbon from a can that was well above room temperature. He was born and raised in Stafford and barely graduated from North Stafford High School in 1985. After leaving academia for four years to think about maybe joining the Peace Corps—which apparently took every bit of four years to properly consider—he then attended Liberty University where he excelled as the scorekeeper for the men’s soccer team from 1989-1993 under legendary coach Bill Bell.
It was only after Dale graduated that Bell, who won nearly 200 games while coaching the Flames, was finally able to take his team to their first appearance in the Big South Men’s Soccer Championship. Buoyed by his modest success as a men’s soccer scorekeeper, Dale decided to pursue a career in sports.
Upon graduating from Liberty, Dale landed an unpaid internship with the NBA’s Washington Bullets before attending baseball’s winter meetings in 1992 and securing another unpaid intern position with the Prince William Cannons’ minor league baseball team. It was while in Woodbridge that Dale’s later career began to take shape as he was named Assistant Director of Concessions for the Cannons and was often called upon to pour beer during games when he realized ABC agents were present and he had not staffed anyone of legal age to pour the beer during a home game.
After his second failed unpaid internship, Dale took a short-lived position as a tire salesman but quit in disgust when they asked him to unload Christmas trees without gloves. He then transitioned into a salary-based position in Northern Virginia at Almost a Bank as a teller. It was while at Almost a Bank that he honed the customer service skills that would later serve him as a volunteer beertender at Laudenbach.
Dale has told biographers that one customer encounter was especially foundational in setting him on the career trajectory that led him to pour beer on occasional Saturday afternoons. A gentleman entered the bank one evening near closing time and, in the narrow opening beneath a very thick plexiglass partition, handed Dale a check asking him to cash the check which was a first party check written in crayon with a number of misspellings and on green construction paper. When Dale politely refused the customer’s request, the customer asked Dale if he knew who he was. Before Dale could make out the Crayola scrawl on the “check”, the customer responded with a retort that became pivotal in the life of Laudenbach’s rising star.
“You ask anyone in Northern Virginia and they’ll tell you I’m the baddest mother*****er in the area. People know not to f*** with me and you’ll learn that tomorrow when I come back here when you open!”
Dale politely thanked Mr. Mother****** for his business and said he looked forward to his visit the following day and added, helpfully, that they opened at 9 a.m. Dale handed in his resignation that evening and never returned to the world of high finance and started to think seriously about a life built around drinking beer, if not necessarily beertending.
Fast forward a few decades to a time when the son of Dave Guy, a high school friend of Dale’s and also the lead singer and guitarist of the local band, Unchained, quit his insurance claims adjuster job to open a brewery (which is the dream of all insurance claims adjusters who have dealt with personal injury attorneys). Dale liked the idea of giving back to his community, coupled with the promise of free beer when the workday was done. Customers have taken note of the boy wonder.
“He’s the best bartender over 50 at Centreport Parkway, hands down,” said Beth Rhodes, a long-time resident of Spotsylvania County and teacher at Spotsylvania Middle School. “Dale knows how to talk about nothing…people like that when they’re drinking beer.”
In a country divided, with an ever-growing political chasm driving us apart, it is refreshing to find the Dale Scotts of the world who can help bridge the yawning maw of society’s ills by pouring Cled’s Red Ale and talking about absolutely nothing.
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