"A Salad Shooter, a fly swatter, and a mullet: Not your typical Thursday Night"
by Sarah Gilbert -Inspired by True Events-	"It’s too cold to go out," my friend whined over the phone. "It’s like minus something  out there!"               I rolled my eyes for her benefit, even though she couldn’t see me. I know it’s ass nipping cold outside. But it’s January. In Wisconsin. Wear your long johns like everyone else. (What? Everyone else doesn’t wear them?)               "Okay, whatever. Enjoy staying in and watching reruns, then," I said. I had more important matters to attend to, such as drinking.
Trocadero’s, just off N. Water and Pearson Streets, seemed crowded for 8:45 pm. The majority of the crowd was Thursday Night Drinkers. I spotted some familiar faces, such as the ever-present Accenture group, but many were new faces. I could immediately pick out the first-timers: they were the only ones playing the Unknown 10 game. The veterans of the crowd were squeezed tight to the bar, vying for the bartenders’ attention while trying not to look like they were scoping for some after-bar snicky-snacks.
But this wasn’t just another night out at the bars. For one, a portion of the proceeds collected went to the charity chosen by popular vote, Romp. Romp is an organization trying to establish off-leash dog parks in Milwaukee. For another, a new tradition was started. Drinking Jenga, a game re-created by the ingenious Brandon D., will be raffled off each month from now on. Drinking Jenga is pretty much what it sounds like. But a fair warning on the game: Drinking Jenga may cause you to lose your cookies, your clothes, and hopefully for Paul P., his cherry.
Conversation got off to a fascinating start for me. I learned an interesting tidbit about Ethan M. The best Christmas gift he received this year was a Salad Shooter. Apparently, the name Salad Shooter is misleading. According to Ethan, the Salad Shooter doesn’t shoot  so much as it droops. Which is good to know.
I lied. I actually learned two things. You can get a guy to lick another guy’s ear if you just ask nicely enough. Sorry Paul P., Ethan M. wasn’t trying to get frisky with you. He was doing it for my entertainment only. And possibly just to end the conversation about the second-best Christmas gift he received, a fly swatter from Aunt Shirley.
I know TNDC has hit the Milwaukee big leagues since the local magazine, "City Lifestyle" sent a fashion photographer to capture our yuppie digs on camera. The photographer snapped my picture, saying I was, and these are his words, I swear, "The height of fashion." I was feeling like the next Heidi Klum (you know, that supermodel with the huge hammers) for about thirty seconds. Then I turned around and saw the photographer enthusiastically taking pictures of a middle-aged man sporting a mini-truck mullet. I mean, how can I compare to someone whose hair is business in the front, but all party in the back? I sighed. So much for the glamour of being a budding supermodel.
So was this just another TNDC? And was it worth it, trekking outside in sub-zero temperatures? No and yes, respectively. Where else would I have learned to leave a Salad Shooter and fly swatter off next year’s Christmas list? And where else could I have been upstaged by a man with a mullet? (Other than the south side, that is.)
Next month’s feature article: Is there more to Thursday Night Drinking Club than picking on poor Paul P.?