Having spent many years on the retail periphery of the beer industry, what it comes down to is, there's good news and bad news. At the turn of the twentieth century, almost every American city of any size had local breweries, local favorites, local tastes. By, oh, the late 1960's into the 1970's, literally almost all of those breweries had either died or had been bought out by a larger regional or national brand - even during this time period, some of the largest national beers, like Schlitz and Stroh's, were bought out by even larger brands, like Miller.
Basically, the American beer industry shrunk to about 2 dozen producers. Almost all of them produced the same style, a light-colored lager.
There was a back-lash. Micro-breweries erupted all over the country, with richer styles, more daring product, much more variety - ales, lambics, stouts, porters, heffweizens, you name it. That's the good news. The bad news is, some of 'em aren't all that pleasant. They're over-hopped, over-flavored, over-manipulated, like taking a simple grilled chicken recipe and turning it into a Phd thesis of an entree. You can over-do almost any food item, in search of innovation and "wow!", and it's certainly happened to beer.
It really is incumbent upon the service staff to know their product line in a brew-pub, and to communicate with their customer - to read their preferences and limits. It's also incumbent upon the customer to be honest about their expectations. But, yeah, I've sold lots of beer, I home-brew my own, and it's no longer "vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry". Beer is now "Ben & Jerry's", and, like B&J's, some of the options are a bit "out there" for my tastes.
My better half and I ran into this out in northwest Indiana, a couple of years ago. We made a pilgrimage to The Three Floyds brew-pup, literally nationally renown for their exotic, eclectic brews. Well, I could handle the beer, but, we wanted lunch too - and the food menu suffered from "creative envy", I guess. The menu was limited, and, frankly, it was weird. I was trying to find something "normal" that my sweetie could eat, and settled on a beef brisket - well, when it came out, she took one bite, turned to me and said "this tastes like feet!".
I took a bite. She was right.