Don’t it make my bright eyes blue, (followed by red and white?) This rave party was the thing to rave about, and we’d not completely kill the lights, as they smack of a bit of darkish neon.

Hey, you have to rave about the rave, and its blue light special. But across those severance walls, but certainly not the halls, gotta get that gonzo but godforsaken tap in gear.
First, the rave party at the Wild Badger the weekend before The Fourth but a prequel, was set with the cool bartenders dressing the part, but wait — not all the dark-mood lights were in place quite yet. So go to it, with the evening beckoning, more bulbs have to be installed.
Mood as in funky and (softly?) tinted purplish lumens, like the shape you’d see Outshining the back-porch kind at a Fourth BBQ, as dusk comes and fireworks too. All around the top of the circular bar. So there was one bartender who stepped up as brave and made the lap, and with rave dress also evoking memories of un-stripped-down Coyote Ugly, which I just saw on late(r)-night TV. (One of her mates appeared too young to catch the joking reference, although I indeed tried). Just had to watch the first one’s step when there was a cash register at the edge or lip of the wooden bar-rail. I offered to lend a hand, but she’s good … I commended her on her litheness, (more on that in a day or two), and style as she rocked it, and added I just might have to run to Wal-Mart, or the closest rave shop, other, in the Cities or that one kinda mega store here — and get a set of full-on black lights as accompaniment.
That second server one had a combo of the longest lashes I’ve seen, and her darker but colorful patterned eyes that will long be remembered, even in The Brave New World of the pandemic, a full half-inch, (more on this trend in subsequent posts). And a third bartender with checkered shorts on most of the colors of the rainbow. Even the deejay got into it with trademark metal-punk gloves of black leather (finger holes?) Interestingly, the only one really dressed down was the shot girl.
But northern-end over, since we need our beer … A single tap line that at its length fought the Badger State culture, briefly. It stuck and for minutes did not deliver through the goods, but for a few free quaffs. But to cure? A bartender friend took the lead, followed by another woman and man, coworkers all, and the former came up with an answer. So how many people does it take to change a tap line. Three? But needed was woman’s touch, or two of them.
But it took just one Badger bartender to change real light bulbs.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

When walking down Second Street in Hudson, you may have seen a sign in a doorway saying One Drop Refillery, and like me thought it was a distillery, like a new place to have a drink. That would not fill the bill. Rather, this new shop that’s like a small mill, as in a dispensary, but quickly grew into featuring much more though related goods, reduces one of your steps and will be a first step toward saving the environment. It’s tucked inside the north half of a long existing photography studio by Lisa Buth and being what the former name says, it’s...
The pre-Halloween haunts are now hanging out their hat, and their head if they still have one, to harangue you, with a Witch’s Night Out — warlocks are apparently out of luck, although they can walk the street beside you, though she just might pass you by — on Thursday, Oct. 22, when things and heads really start rolling. (I was caught in a burning ring of fire, the circling flames lift my smoldered hat higher. Then rims settled for grab globs by Godiva, so she came a horseback witch attired.) So this is a night not only of bad lyricism and sometimes...
To all you true blue followers, hope you enjoy the following run-on expanse as humorous and very warped and a little redneck. It is all true, except for the dream part, which was dreamt. Welcome to Halloween early! Drank a couple of energy drinks, no Monster, and pulled an all-nighter typing somewhat late-dropped-into-my-lap advertorials and carried on my sleeplessness into the next morning and afternoon, all the while walking around the downtown and delivering draft copies and even picked up another assignment, one that could go boo in the night, say what is so. Was at the light by Agave and for some...
It’s roughly mid-October in a roughly MAGA America and how is your rough life going? (Seems like early November, but only politically, not as far as the mal-adjusted seasons.) Well I’ll tell you about mine, thank you. And roughly. Halloween haunts — got to find some extra dough for candy and costumes for the kids and myself, more and more obligatory for adults, but all I have is some spare change, can you please bum me a dime? — are already becoming reality in our everyday lives. Note use of the word “everyday.” Master of Reality? Black Sabbath nailed it...
How fast can you swing the axe? Ask the axe-man not on stage but sitting next to you. Bar math can be fun, as I’ve said many a time, but especially when it’s coming from a decades-long blues man. Imagine going to a bar to have a drink, or two, and then end up talking to a musician about how many more (notes) than that he can play a second! Try five or maybe six. Off to Hudson Tap, and tapping into the knowledge of a guy older than I who is a veteran blues man, mostly — and I...
Thou protesteth too much?!? That be me. Computer geek? Can’t see. Omniscient? I am not He. If you are reading my attempted Facebook teaser, it was supposed to be All About The Football, or even futbal, in freeze frame or infinite loop, but that Alleged Giant, of social media, clipped off the wording top and bottom, front and back, fore and aft, day and night, (that last part is important), then sent the post anyway, a yammering of names! I tried to fix it, and must own up to my own part, but I was just shown more ads. I...
Scroll to Top