Chapter 49 (cont.)

 

Boobs, Butts & Beyond: The Bud Light Bike

 

We had a contest once to elect the favorite Quizzo Girl between Quizzo Sonya, and her predecessors. We tried to get people to vote by promising every time you voted, you were entered into a chance to win a Bud Light mountain bike.

 

The great guys at Bud Light always went out of their way to do all they could for us; providing t-shirts, key chains, and other prizes that we never really needed to fill our seats. So, the one time we asked them for a bigger prize, they came right through. I asked for a bike, and in their warehouse they pointed way up to a dusty box that had sat there so long, it was actually sitting under a box of Spuds Mackenzie coozies.

 

It was a summer promotion, and you had to be present to win. It was August -- the slowest month on the Quizzo calendar -- with Summer Session over and people pretty much flocking to Dewey or Rehoboth. So, the night was light with about 40 or 50 people. Couple that with the fact that only about 60 people voted in the contest (Sonya won with 31 votes), and we really didn’t have much of an event on our hands.

 

So, Dan and I did what any dude would do, and said we’d give the bike to anyone who would ride it down Main Street naked. One guy immediately said he would, which we flatly refused…and probably saved him a life of sterility in the process. Given his level of idiocy, it probably would have been a public service.

 

As the show went on, we kept mentioning the raffle was off and that anyone who wanted this bike would have to strip for it. In the midst of the night’s drinking festivities, a cute little blonde girl said she would strip down to her underwear and do it. So, 20 loyal fans (okay, desperate creeps who wanted to see a boob accidentally pop out) gathered in the alley to the side of Kate’s, as she refused to do it on Main Street. We watched a girl in a smart little Victoria’s Secret bra and panties (basic, but sexy) straddle the fine prize Bud Light had provided, a Huffy mountain bike.

 

She gets on, and we tell her she needs only to pedal twenty feet to the end of the alley, which would put her on the sidewalk parallel to Main Street. She would only be visible for a few seconds, when we would then swoop down with a towel.

 

It sounded easy enough until you realize that this 110-pound girl had been drinking all night, and was in a poorly lit alley, thereby preventing her from seeing straight or seeing at all. She pedaled forward with zero balance that propelled her as much forward as it did downward (to her left side), and she collapsed almost on Main Street with Huffy bike akimbo.

 

We paused for a second, and as she staggered slowly to her feet, we were ready for her to scream for help. But she just looked at us with concern and said, “Do I get the bike?” “Yes,” I said. “You get the bike, sweetie.”

 

Anchors Away

 

The staple college drinking game “Anchorman” was another space on the wheel. Should you land on this space you and two other people from your table faced three people from the second place team, for a game of Anchorman. Winner got the free pitcher. But of course, given that you each get a pitcher to play the game, you are already a winner and the second place team should really thank you for landing on the space.

 

For the sake of accuracy, and in case there are any Mormons reading this, I will now explain how the game of Anchorman is played: three people to a team, and each team gets a pitcher. The first guy drinks as much as he wants and passes it to the second player, who does the same, and then they pass the remaining amount to the final player in line…the Anchorman. The first two can leave him the entire pitcher if they like, but the best strategy is to drink as much as you can, and have the best drinker at the end pound whatever is left. Remember, you’re racing against the other team.

 

You can see how the whole crowd can root for their favorite team, how you’d love to see the underdog that is the punier team win, or how you could jeer the guy that drank the least on stage.

 

This was one of the best times during Quizzo …and also the worst time for the Alcohol Beverage Control to do a spot check on the bar. But who can control these things?

 

The next day, the Kate’s manager waved a $500 citation in front of us. According to the ABC, we were, “Doing a remake of Animal House in there.” He then told us something like, “If I ever see that fucking wheel again, it is going out the window and you two yo-yo’s are going with it. And I am not the one paying the next fine.”

 

And that was the end of the three-year reign of our beloved Quizzo Wheel of Death.

 

BARENAKED IN DELAWARE

a nugget by

Dan “Didn't go to UD,

but grew up in Wilmington” Healy

 

I was bartending in Wilmington on a Sunday night in late November 2001, and it was about two hours from closing. Luckily, most of the bar crowd had emptied out by 11:30, and it allowed me to start cleaning up. One of my servers, Goose, came up to me and asked for another round of Grand Marnier shots. This is not uncommon in Delaware, as we drink more GM per capita than most places in the world. Hey, the French are good for something.

 

So after a few minutes, Goose asked me if I recognized the guys back at his table. Well, who would recognize a Canuck roadie, but I did know who the Barenaked Ladies were; especially Tyler Stewart and Steven Page, who were at the table! Jim, Kevin and Ed were at the Sheraton up the street. I grabbed the bottle of GM and headed back to the table. After a few shots, they had to take off. It was getting late, and they had a gig at The Bob the next night.

 

We exchanged goodbyes, shook hands, and they were out the door. That’s when I noticed Tyler had left his backpack under the table. I ran up the street and delivered the apparently valuable cargo. Instantly, he invited my staff and me to join them on the tour bus behind the hotel. It took a total of thirty seconds for us to lock up the bar, and up the street we went.

 

The next few hours we’re on and off the bus…drinking, smoking, and playing video games. Somewhere between shotgunning a beer and talking about The Simpsons, they offered us tickets to the UD show. Obviously, I accepted, but told them I had to host Quizzo at Klondike Kate's that night and couldn’t make the concert. That intrigued them a lot, apparently they loved trivia. So we started playing Quizzo on the bus until 6 AM. Actually we were so loud, that Ed yelled at us from his hotel window around sun up. They introduced me to a new drink and favorite of theirs called “Iced Pussy Juice,” or “IPJ” for short. The drink itself is just vodka, cranberry and Fresca. But it all gets poured into your mouth separately. That is the key to IPJ.

 

Before leaving to go clean the bar before the day shift came in, they gave me the tickets, and we exchanged numbers. They mentioned they may want to stop by Quizzo after their show. I wasn’t taking that too seriously, since they had a show Tuesday in Baltimore. So a long, drunk Monday followed, but the natural high of meeting rock stars made it roll on by. I gave the tickets to my buddy Christian, and a few others. The plan was for them to go to the show, go backstage, and see if they were really going to come over to Kate’s for Quizzo.

 

At Quizzo, Geno was breaking my balls about meeting the Barenaked Ladies. He was upset that Sarah McLachlan wasn’t there; he can be so gay. Sometime during the second round of Quizzo and the fifth shot, Christian calls and tells me about the concert. Then he informs me that he is en route with Steven, Tyler and Kevin from BNL. They had rushed off stage and asked for a ride to Kate’s, since the bus wouldn’t be ready to leave for awhile. Five minutes later, the Barenaked Ladies were at Quizzo, sitting to our right, heckling me, and doing shots with us. They had a great time, drinking, laughing and even signing autographs for the college kids.

 

After the show, we were hanging with the bartenders, when word got to us that people had heard about our special guests. Kate’s was being overrun by fans and phone calls. Quickly my girlfriend and our Quizzo Girl Beth whisked us out of the bar and back to their house on East Cleveland, and the masses followed. It was the biggest spur of the moment post-Quizzo party ever. Keep in mind, this was with finals week quickly approaching.

 

The after-party raged for hours, luckily the police never came, which was nice. IPJs became the new thing for these kids, although finding Fresca that late on a Monday was tough. We actually settled for old Shasta, no shit. The BNL guys were extremely cool and humble the entire time.

 

But the highlight must have been when someone broke out a karaoke machine, and singing ensued. Out of nowhere I found myself in a BNL sandwich singing “One Week” with Steven, Tyler and Kevin. This was pretty amazing, especially because they were messing up the lyrics. Nothing like Canadians and Americans singing drunk together at 4 AM in front of drunker college kids who had upcoming finals, as they looked on at the only professionals in the room. They should’ve left, but couldn’t look away. All that was missing was Guido the Killer Pimp and a pre-scientology Tom Cruise.

 

Finally, the tour bus came by and picked them up. They pulled off and out of Newark, and people couldn’t have scattered quicker. Sunrise was imminent and the house was trashed, but that all took a back seat to telling stories and breakfast IPJs. Our time had ended with the Barenaked Ladies, but the memories would last forever. Christian even ran into them again at the Super Bowl in New Orleans, and they remembered him and all of us. It was nice to realize that these guys are still just regular fellas who like to drink and play their music. Not to mention, they won a round at Quizzo that night. I’m not saying I helped them, but the conversion scale of Canadian scoring put them way ahead.  I just felt good handing them the free pitcher, and doing a cheesy, “It’s no Million Dollars” joke. But, I’ll tell you, there is something to be said for drinking with a Canadian rock band. You should try it sometime, eh?