Dude's: An Anatomy of a Small Town Nightclub

In a three stoplight town, there are only just as many options to enjoy the nightlife. Dude's Steakhouse is one of those. Every time we drive into town, L and I look forward to heading on over on a Friday night to toss back a few and dance a little. But, the prime reason we absolutely love to go is the first-class opportunity to people watch. Over the years, the types of clientele have remained the same...

The first group to participate in the night's festivities is the single girls posse, mostly in their mid-twenties. Most have rhythm, all believe grinding on each other and performing the quick low squat followed by the slow ass in the air rise up is somehow hot. They're the type to holler out in victory, two arms waving in the air, strutting onto the floor once the first notes of "Pour Some Sugar On Me" start up.

Of this group, there is always the alpha female, not quite the better looking of the gang, but the most confident and the one who has decision power on which songs are worthy of their participation. Once on the floor, her minions gyrate around her, one of which is the sidekick. More likely alpha's best friend, she is the more timid of the group but makes up for it by showing more skin. She is also the one who insists on carrying out a conversation mid-dance that involves elaborate laughing bouts that interrupt her awkward movements.

A Nebraska nightclub is incomplete without the country folk. Garbed in full cowboy regalia, they strut into the place, skin-tight jeans, big ole hat and even bigger belt buckle, and boots. They take to the floor with a running start once a tune with twang rings out, and spins and twirls around to what L and I call the "Sidney Dance." My personal fave is the female with the late 80's crispy perm in the long-sleeved plaid shirt layered with a black puffy jacket vest.

There are the drunk and deluded...plus-sized girls squeezed into shimmery gold tube tops, those trendy dress shorts, and knee-high high-heeled boots. (I swear I have nothing against plus-sized girls...but really, only the size zeros look ok in this type of outfit.) This type prefers shimmying up the wooden post conveniently in the middle of the dance floor. Sometimes I wonder if they are too drunk to notice the splinters embedding themselves in their skin.

Of course, there are the single guys stationed on the perimeter of the floor, scoping out potential partners for the night. They bop their heads to the beat, one hand in their pocket, the other holding a bottle of beer trying to pinpoint which girl (usually from the single girls group) looks the easiest...the easiest to dance with...the easiest to flirt with...and the easiest...well, the easiest.

Most Dude's patrons fit into this category. But there are those who stand out as unique individuals. For example, there was this guy (the only one with rhythm) dressed in a wifebeater, unbuttoned short-sleeved button up, cocked hat, and untied skater shoes who looked exactly (EXACTLY) like K-Fed...except he was missing teeth. There was also Miss Fake N' Bake, looking cute with her tight bod and revealing clothes, except for the fact she was an unnatural shade of burnt orange.

In short, if you are ever in need of an ego boost (and you don't usually fit into one of the categories mentioned above), Dude's is the place to go. With the way this little trip has been, it was a quick and easy remedy to my frustrations. If you're ever in the area...(I dunno, maybe your car breaks down or something...) check this shindig out.