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| - There is something to be said for a giant wheel o' shots with every 2 oz beverage imaginable on it that you can spin 3 times for 7 dollars. It adds unpredictability, value, and the excitement of a game show to a tacky night in Scottsdale. Saturday night, I was "lucky" enough to win a "Hot White Load" on the wheel. It's hilarity in name was equally matched by visual appeal of the drink itself. Some eerily seamen-colored butterscotch schnapps suspended like a mid-air ejaculation in some other harder, clear alcohol.
But game show tacky is about as high as this place can aspire. Complete with strong-man boxing machines, pirate decorations, bar swings, Bon Jovi blasting, 36 oz domestic bottles of beer everywhere, and midget led karaoke. If you are cohersed into coming here, as I often seem to be with my Scottsdale friends, I recommend hitting the wheel as fast as possible and to try to enjoy the place for the carnival it is.
Although I don't know how it is possible as a female to do so. The thing about Scottsdale bars that always get to me is how seedy all the grown up frat boys and yuppies that frequent these establishments are once they get a couple of drinks in them. They treat it like once they reach a blood alcohol level of .08 on a non-school night, it gives them legal license to grab the ass or grind on any young female who comes within 3 feet of them.
Giligin's seems to be built for this purpose. A tiny little bar crowded with unwieldy wooden tables and carnival games with random crap happening at every little corner, which makes it almost impossible to maneuver around for another giant bottle of Coors Light and a shot of Pink Pussy without grinding on a couple people. The girls that we were with on Saturday seemed to constantly have a look of terror in their eyes which dashed around, like the islanders of Lost when they hear the sound of the Monster, whenever they hear another douche bag coming that will likely treat his beer run as license to get friendly with girls they don't know.
I talked to one girl I was with about it who lived right by Old Town and she seemed almost surprised when I told her there were bars in the town where you could go without any fear of random boob grabs. While I heard some dudes talk about where to score some good cocaine after my second Pink Pussy shot of the night, I told my friend who brought me there, "dude, next week I'm taking you to Chez Nous."
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