When Whiskey Tango Met Naperville

There are some that may speak of Joliet with derision. They may think of Joliet as a trashy prison town where a gourmet dinner usually involves a buffet, karaoke is king, and there's no problem that can't be solved with a six pack of Miller Lite. These people may be right, and they tend to come from "classy" suburbs such as Downers Grove, or Wilmington. Fine, I'm just kidding on the Wilmington part. But the influence of Joliet is not limited to the Southland, as Melissa, Shannon and I learned Saturday night during our evening out in Naperthrill.

The night started off typically enough with a drink at the Samba Room, but things got interesting when we went to Features. The general vibe of Features, as described by my good buddy Jake, is a lot of people dancing to MC Hammer, but it's probably in my opinion the most fun Naperville bar. While it's usually packed, it was even more crowded than usual, and we went back to the usually less crowded bar by the pool tables, but this time it was very busy due to a Whiskey Tango Bachelorette Party. The women had teased bangs and kept throwing peanuts at each other. Melissa got caught in the crossfire while trying to order a drink, but didn't beat anyone's ass, much to the disappointment of Shannon and myself. The most frightening thing about the Bachelorettes (no, there was no Rose Ceremony) was that they were accompanied by an inflatable man with a fake dick. Not only was that creepy, but they were trying to shove peanuts up the butt of the doll. At one point Melissa somehow got caught between the legs of Rubber Rob, but we got her out before anything lewd occurred.

After spying an overly muscular man who looked like an Elimidate reject, we decided to move toward another part of the bar for some fresh air and fresh people to make fun of. A guy called my name, and we stopped to chat with our new friend Gary. Gary had been calling another friend of his also named Emily earlier in the evening, and when I stopped to see who was calling my name, he correctly deduced that I was Emily as well, so we hung out with him for a bit. Gary is from Aurora, so he knows trash when he sees it, and we quickly became entertained by the antics of the Best Mullet Ever. Why so great? A. The man was frighteningly tall. B. His mullet was pulled back in a ponytail. C. He had on a really ugly Bill Cosby-like sweater in shades of gray. D. His female companion was wearing vampire fangs. Was this a Halloween thing, or was she one of those people that hang out under the bridge, Red Hot Chili Peppers style, at the Naperville Riverwalk? I was too frightened to ask, but when Gary bought us shots, we told him to give the extra one to Vampira. Gary obliged, but Miss Fangs declined the shot-she doesn't drink Yeager and it could stain her teeth (Gary might have made that part up). So Shannon decided we should give the drink to a man who had been standing alone by himself all night, who we dubbed The Lone Wolf. The Lone Wolf looked like Yosemite Sam, but graciously accepted the shot, and then blessed us with his company for the rest of the evening. How does a Lone Wolf pick up a woman? Check out how he pitched woo to Shannon: First, he grabbed her elbow and repeatedly told her she was "fuckin' beautiful." Then, he asked her if he could take her out for a "meal." Malt-O-Meal? Happy Meal? Deal a Meal? Shannon declined, so we may never know. The Lone Wolf was also extremely intelligent; after he was later joined by his brother, Melissa asked if they had any other siblings. Lone Wolf's response: "I have a daughter." Melissa:"Ok, do you have any other siblings? Lone Wolf: "I have a daughter."

We also ran into one of the strippers we met up with on my birthday, still a winner in the game of Life, so to speak. He just bought a townhouse, so business must have been booming.

Eventually Shannon and I took a potty break, and ended up chatting with some pool playing guys. Jeff, a rosy cheeked blond guy, struck up a conversation with me and later on in the evening told me I had "eyes like Jennifer Aniston." Yes, my eyes are blue, but I think that's where the similarities end. Another new, oh so smooth pick up line that seemed to be quite popular last night (as used by Jeff and the Lone Wolf's brother) involved me asking guys what bars were open late in the area, and the guy responding with his apartment. Jeff must be a trusting guy; when he asked me to come over to his place, rather than write down his address like a normal person, he gave me a voided check. Jeff was accompanied by a mulleted man (Jeff denied that this lad had a mullet, but we knew better) who we nicknamed "Doobs" after he asked me to go smoke some doobies with him. When I declined, "Doobs" and his friend insisted to me that they weren't "pushers." Later as we walked to the car, "Doobs" entertained us with a strange leprechaun dance that involved clicking his heels together.

The final act of our evening occurred when we reached Shannon's car. As "Doobs" was in the level above us, we yelled goodbye to him. A male voice answered, but this was not "Doobs." It was a guy who found it appropriate to climb on top of the wall of the top level of the parking lot and yell down at us. We chatted briefly, which ended with him mooning us. We finally realized why all the freaks were out: it was a full moon.


In other notes, the Ohio story will be updated when I get my notebook out. On an Ohio note, I was IM'ed out of the blue tonight by Bob of Double Dare, the band we saw at the Beer Barrel Saloon. I had planned on transcribing the conversation to Whiskey Tango, but accidentally closed the window, so here are some highlights:

*Double Dare is heading to Florida for the winter.
*Double Dare played at the Key Wester in Naperville in 1996. "I like Naperville," says Bob.
*Double Dare has been around since 1986, but used to be known as Tryple Dare. In 1988, the guitar player left to move to Canton, OH, and they became Double Dare. When I told Bob that Double Dare was a better name, he said, "Yeah!"
*Double Dare enjoyed their time on Put In Bay, living down the hall from Kenny Kydd at some points. But the second time they went there, the hotel manager wouldn't let them bring their cats, so they had to scramble to find a catsitter for two weeks.
*Double Dare's website is They couldn't use due to that crazy bastard Marc Summers (who had OCD by the way, he couldn't handle the slime) and his game show, to which I responded, "Those rascals!"

You too can IM Bob at dbldare.

Adios!