July 7th, 2007 at 9:45 pm (Evil Booty)
Only in Nebraska do they have bars that still offer house drinks (drinks made from cheap liquor) for $.25 after a $5.00 cover charge. Now, you might say, ‘hey, you still had to pay $5.00!’, but think about it, after spending $7.00, you’ve had 8 drinks, the last 3 of which were probably a bad idea. Can you do that anywhere else? (Not the bad idea 3. Trust me, you can do THAT anywhere.)
So, while we’re at this country bar, which has a live band playing (thankfully. The band wasn’t good, but it wasn’t incredibly horrible and it played more than just country music, thus saving me from having to drink those last 3 drinks first and numb my brain, which I did anyway…) and drinks are $.25.
It’s a Nebraska bar, so I’m not expecting much in the way of men, mostly the tall, dumb, possibly burly type, (you know, redneck cowboys…not the gay brokeback mountain kind). As I look around, to my surprise, I see a few more ‘college’ looking types and a few ‘biker’ types, one of which catches my eye right away. He’s not tall, but he’s got shoulder length, brown hair, a nice set of shoulders enhanced by a black tank top and that melancholy aura punctuated by a bright smile that I can’t seem to resist. He was hot! (Whoda thunk it in Nebraski?) I can’t help but keep glancing his way all night.
Now, there’s also this old (ok, not THAT old, but definitely older than I like) cowboy, who’s name is… (I bet you can’t guess…) Dusty, who keeps hitting on me. So, after the umteenth stop by the table, I politely two-step with him once (I’m diabolically polite), stepping on his toes more than a few times to keep him from asking me again (and a little passive-agressive). Does he buy me a $.25 drink or even offer? No. He just keeps hovering around. But I don’t invite him to sit (ok, so maybe not quite so diabolically polite, but close) hoping that he’ll take the hint and go away.
Finally, the guy I did think was good looking comes over with a friend and asks if Bridget and I would like some company. They DO buy us cheap ass drinks (hey, it’s the principle) and we have a grand old time. The old cowboy doesn’t take the not-so-subtle hint of inviting other men to the table and still keeps hovering, until I finally tell him that I won’t be going home with him, I much prefer my current company…who I did take home (or at least to my sister’s house) where we continued the party with much fun and general mayhem.
I think all bars should support $.25 drink nights. And if you’re a guy at a bar that supports $.25 drinks, buy any woman you’re interested in a drink or two (or twelve). It might just pave the way.