Imagine – entering into an oasis teeming with freshly uncorked bottles of wine. After a cup or two, you are whisked away by the sweet, sinful nectar. Daily commotion seems to fade away into a symphony of house music and drunken memories.
No, this isn't heaven. But it's pretty darn close.
The campus-coined "Wine Night" at Cly's (or the Clybourne, if you're classy) has become a stipend for students to break away from their weekly routine and unwind with a bottle (or two) of vino every Tuesday night.
Like clock-work, I find my lips pressed against a bottle of Champaign-Urbana's finest white wine on this ritual night more often than I'd like to admit.
For those of you unfamiliar with this foreign wonder that is "Wine Night", allow me to explain through situations I'm sure everyone has experienced.
You and your girls (or guys) step out for the night... looking fresh as ever. Tuesdays might as well be Fridays, right?
Whether you bounce over to a pre-game or not, you should be a small fraction of tipsy when you stand in line for Wine Night.
Why?
First and foremost, when you stand in line one of two things will happen:
1. Some one will jump the line, which is synonymous with igniting a fire down the entire line. You get mad, obviously, and surmise all of the ways the rest of the night could go wrong.
2. Mother nature never seems to cater to the needs of college students, so your stint in line will either be met with rain, humidity or a spine-numbing breeze. Lets cross our fingers and hope it's none of the above.
Regardless, you shouldn't be void of alcohol when encountering these line-monstrosities.
You make your way inside, finally! You finagled your way past the bouncer and were awarded by getting a cute little stamp in your hand.
Next, you swim through an inevitable sea of people. The air is muggy with BO and the smell of wine. The crowd around the bar is deep. Frat boys are hunched over the edges of the bar, not dissimilar to Caveman Spongebob.
There are areas on each level of Cly's, particularly near the bar, that might as well have been peed on by Frat stars, because these men will guard the bars like angry gorillas. It's a jungle out here and if you want a bottle your either have to push your way through the chaos or finness your way through the boys. (If executed properly, you may be able get a ~free~ bottle of wine).
You get your wine.
Moving about the bar, you'll probably encounter a few different types of people.
As I mentioned, frat boys are already guarding the edges of the bar. But, scattered around the main floor are globs of people dancing, grinding and jumping around. You may or may not get stepped on by an overly-hyped and overly-drunk boy.
You may or may not dance on the first-floor poles, which may or may not look super similar to stripper poles, especially when you're a little inebriated.
Trying to navigate from floor-to-floor at Clys is pretty similar to climbing Mount Everest. Whether you're coming up or going down, the steps transform into a slippery slope of wine.
For those of us who like wearing sandals to the bars, you should be extra cautious when maneuvering through Wine Night. Every week someone manages to drop a bottle, which turns the floor into a pool of sticky wine and knife-like slivers of glass.
In an effort to avoid the chaos you slip away to the bathroom... where you happen upon a thick line of other girls (or guys). If you're anything like me, you're bound to make a bunch of new friends in the bathroom. It's like a drunk girl's right of passage – if you don't scream, cry, or compliment some random girl on her skirt in the bathroom of a bar, you're not living correctly.
The night begins to roll to a close, and 2:00 a.m. seems like a myth.
Did you really stay out this late?
Yes, you did.
Between stumbling down Green Street, and scooping up some regrettable late-night grub, you make it out of Wine Night alive.
As this ritual occurs week after week, just remember that all wine is NOT created equal.
