Wednesday, October 21, 11:50 p.m. I'm in a saloon and there's a girl dancing on the bar. In other words, it's a typical night. Her platinum pigtails swing in time with the music. "That th that th th that that girl ..." She drops intimate yet aloof glances down at the men gathered at her feet, their bottles raised up in praise. From the waist down she's all buckles and studs and boots, but from the waist up she's nothing but taut tummy and bubblegum-pink bikini, as if she's gonna kick your ass and flash you a smile. All the sweet 'n' sour of a Long Island iced tea and as subtle as a Molotov cocktail.
When the song drifts into Kid Rock's "Cowboy," she is helped down by the beef-tastic bar backs and immediately jumps behind her counter and starts serving up orders. How any man could keep a drink in his mouth when his jaw is still on the floor is beyond me. Still, they manage. Something tells me she's going to have a good night, tip-wise.
I was wrong in thinking that Coyote Ugly, open 6 p.m. to 4 a.m. on the weekends, did not serve mixed drinks; I had heard from various sources that it's "shots, beer or get the hell out of here." But here I am staring down a full bar. The only things not on the menu (there's a menu?) are blended drinks. So, you debutantes, spring-breakers and general sissy-pants types will not be having those frozen, blended, peachy-passion smoothies with the pink, sugared rim and whipped cream you love so much. At least not inside Coyote. They will happily help you embarrass yourself at the daiquiri bar immediately out the doors and to the left.
Inside Coyote, it is warm yet sweaty. At the largest of the three bars is head bartender and choreographer Danielle Dellavalle. Twice every hour, or whenever one of their numbers comes up on the jukebox (that's right kids, I said "jukebox"), the girls take to the bar and do what Coyotes do while one or two stay behind, serving up the suds. Between numbers, the bawdier babes get on the microphone and dish out tough love to whomever is closest and most willing. Like this guy, yeah, he'll do. Head pinned firmly between the temptress' thighs, his chin tilted upward to catch the duel streams of beer and purple mystery shot she's pouring. Were he capable of speech, I'm sure he'd say, "Please, God, let one of my friends get a picture of this!" Not long after, a preppy birthday boy is spanked 21 times with his own belt.
"Slow songs kill the vibe," asserts Dellavalle, catching a precious breath and describing her harem. "We're all edgy and hard-core but we have characters we play." Dellavalle says she is one of a group of girls who will yell at you and then smile sweetly whilst taking your order and your money. Hey, I do that, too. Maybe I could be a Coyote. Or maybe I'll just have another Washington apple shot and dream about becoming one. There are much less stomach crunches involved that way.
In the distance, I see it's amateur hour. With all of the bartenders back to their positions, the bold and beautiful females (some more on the bold side) not employed by the bar are giving it their all on every flat surface. Security makes sure no intoxicated ladies set foot on the bars or stages and keeps safe those girls who want to express themselves by dry-humping their college roommates.
Along one bar, bras both feminine and utilitarian dangle in the breeze as if the staff was hanging their delicates out to dry. Women who donate their bra to the bar's general décor are rewarded with free rounds. That can amount to a lot of laundry. Every year, right around their anniversary, says Dellavalle, Coyote Ugly collects the bras and donates them for breast cancer fundraising. The haul looks a little thin tonight—what's left is just for show—but it won't take long to talk the ladies out of their garments.
You can't help but make the connection that Coyote Ugly is named after the bar featured in the movie Coyote Ugly and that bar was based on Hogs & Heifers in New York City's meat-packing district. Now with Hogs on Third Street, Vegas has one of each. It is my own shot-besotted opinion that in both cases, men will drink, women will gravitate toward the highest thing they can dance on, and the bras, gentlemen, they will continue to fly.
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
[email protected].
Xania's Hot Spots for October 27-October 30
Thursday, October 27
Studio 54: Night of the Living Dolls with DJs Lisa Pittman and Miss Joy
Voodoo Lounge: Soundbar with DJs Miguel Migs, Marques Wyatt, Keith Evan, and B.Minogue
Friday, October 28
Drai's: Halloween Weekend In Hell—Fetish & Fantasy Night
Empire Ballroom: premiere of Enchantment Fridays with DJ Snezana
Pure: Guest DJ Stretch Armstrong
Saturday, October 29
Empire Ballroom: Late Night Empire Halloween after-hours with Crobar NYC's DJ Boris and free entry for ladies in costume
Seven: Seven's grand closing party with guests, DJs and surprises
Tao: Halloween Masquerade Ball hosted by Dennis Rodman
Vivid: Trauma Halloween Party with DJs Phaness and Lexo, free admission with hospital-themed costumes
Sunday, October 30
Tabú: Celebrity-Slide Sunday with Mr. Freeze and DJ P, celebrity look-alikes welcome
OPM: Hot 97.5 Monster Mash with DJs
Frany and Craig G., reggae by DJs Connect and Majesty
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