I've written about it extensively over the years - in books, in other posts, and even for news articles from time to time. One of my more popular blog posts is a description of a local dive bar, which you can find HERE.
However, today I'd like to explore a new sub-class to the suburban bar trivia I've recently indulged in. It's a monster of a scene wholly unto itself where adrenaline and testosterone rage high, and people are either made or broken.
I'm talking, of course, about BAR TRIVIA NIGHT at one of the local joints in Crystal Lake, Illinois. I'll refrain from mentioning the bar's name, but this place has built up its own repertoire and familiar patrons, many of whom indulge this location's warm, tavern-like atmosphere to taste exquisite, micro-brew beers. In essence, this ain't your blue collar dad's tap.
It's a hipster bar. The kind of bar where one can just look around at all the young, unworn faces and tell that these early twenty-somethings are still suckling their parents for cash. They don't look haggard. They don't look tired. These people are full of life, zest, gusto, and they've got enough time in the world to pop a squat during bar trivia night in hopes of gaining a gift certificate in exchange for the most useless, yet specific of knowledge. It's questions like, "What did the top of the fire station do on the Ghostbusters Firehouse Playset?" or "What was the last road sign Walter and The Dude passed when going to toss the ringer?" that make this nerd-fest uniquely its own monster.
Week after week, those who feel they can test their might against this machine and cross swords with one another rally up in teams of unlimited number. One team always seems to have a minimum of ten people that collectively crash their heads together to score card after card in dire hopes of winning enough to throw a party.
There are few women here. The only ones I've seen are the floozy bar flies that buzz about men in hopes of trading a drink for a little neck time. Some men are obviously paying for it, but then again, these men may also still be pooling this dough from daddy's wallet.
What's interesting to note about bar trivia night is the level of competition. Nerds are scrambling and climbing over another like star-studded, stereoid-popping 80's action heroes, proverbially beating each other with their carefully cultivated pop culture know-how. The host running the program enjoys the atmosphere, swooning his in suit and feeling the intensity that he created. Perhaps this manipulation is payback for his school days, for something befallen upon him as a child?
I found myself shocked to see such ferocity from such meek-looking dudes, the kind of sassy dudes who care most about what shirt and hat combo they're going to wear to the bar on a hot Summer night. They're calm and seemingly harmless at first, just push-overs one isn't afraid of shrugging out of the way to get the barmaid's attention. Once the game begins, however, these sassy, sexually questionable members of society leap down each other's throats with the harrowing roar of a frustrated and sexually deprived ape.
Complacency is replaced with anger. What once was a chill atmosphere becomes an asylum full of gorillas engaged in a circle jerk battle to see who can unleash the biggest load.
That's the only way to describe it. Ferocious masturbation - the kind only displayed by those weirdos talk show hosts like to have on teevee. Yet, here it was, night after night at bar trivia. Veins popping out of skulls, strange, orgasmic grunts, and bellows of haunting torture as some of their hands tired from stroking so long.
Is this what suburbia night life is like amongst the new, hands-free generation of workers?
