Do you know what we all have? Goals. Aspirations. Levels of accomplishment that we strive tirelessly to achieve, day in and day out, without fail.

Personally, I aspire to have a bar that I am known so well at that the entire patronage screams out my name in unison upon me entering the establishment. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

By now, provided you don’t live in a communist country, you no doubt have seen at least one episode of “Cheers,” the model of personal and family entertainment, back when television shows had what is called a “point.” That’s the motivation for every good bar-fly out there: a place to go where everybody knows your name.

After a long week of studying, going to class and fulfilling my academic obligations, I, like most of my fellow classmates, felt the need to unwind and decompress.

I have heard tale of a place in Moscow that caters to the weary, the hungry and, most importantly, the thirsty. This place is the Moscow Alehouse.

‘Twas a cold and rainy day when I finally walked through its doors and immediately started kicking myself for not coming here sooner. The place was great. It was what a bar should be.

It’s not big, it’s dimly lit, they have a whole delicious orgy of fried food on their menu, and you’re treated like you have been going there for years. A place where you feel like you belong.

Now don’t get me wrong, I do not discriminate amongst my drinking establishments. There are bars of all sizes and kinds, each with their own special flair that makes them appealing. From cocktail kitchens to party bars and sports joints to Irish pubs, there is a barstool with my name on it.

That being said, with all the great drinkeries out there, there is one universal truth: no matter how good the drinks are or how great the vibe is, if you have a sh-tty bartender, it’s a sh-tty bar.

Enter Wendy Smiley-Johnson, proprietor and chief hugger at the Moscow Alehouse. The woman radiates charisma and dedicated cheerfulness that you’d find in a bartender of an old 19th-century saloon; she’s friendly, she loves beer and probably has a small caliber revolver stashed in her garter belt. I didn’t ask, but you get the point.

She, like many in her profession, is why people go to bars. Let’s be real, you can get f-cked up at home, but you go to bars because that’s where the nicest face is pouring you a drink after a long week’s work. Also, they have a Mug Club.

I will be going back to the Alehouse frequently, partly because of the drinks, mostly because of Smiley-Johnson, and also because I was informed that I have to meet the great Jake, bartender extraordinaire.

Worry not, you drunken bastards, there’s more to come on beer and booze and places where you can drink them. Also, what with the polar vortex going on, please be careful out there. It’s better to live and drink another day than to, you know, not live.

Cheers, you drunken bastards, and bottoms up.