BONO

It almost seemed like clockwork - every few weeks, MGD would recycle his proposal for a 'Boys Night Out' (BoNO), but nothing ever has come of them. Yard House would invariably be mentioned and Prem would respond enthusiastically, which was somewhat odd when you consider that he has avoided any outing that may remotely resemble a BoNO. But things are different when men of action like RD make a proposal. After a successful outing with our work place hot-wings club, RD proposed a BoNO at Bub's Dive Bar last Wednesday evening. They not only have an happy hour at that time (with half priced everything), but also have a wings special - 25 cents per wing!

Remarkably, the only planning was an Outlook invite (to which Prem replied in the affirmative, but predictably did not show up), but RD managed to garner a decent turnout - seven of us - RD, Rahul, Sanjay, Murali, Siva, Ravi, and me. Email activity perked up Wed afternoon with some discussion about car pooling. Then a disturbing note crept in - some folks were actively talking about heading to Nordstrom for some post-BoNO shopping and for shoes, no less! Our noted metrosexuals were leading the charge, so perhaps it should not have been too surprising. However, as Rahul noted, that whole exchange and plan was wrong on so many levels.

We had to brave some tough traffic, but we all managed to get there in time to catch Happy Hour and the festivities began. One thing stands out at Bub's Dive Bar - they serve you peanuts in their shells and as you eat them, you simply sweep the shells onto the floor. They also seem to be Virginia Tech supporters, with several posters and banners covering the walls. We asked for their hottest wings, but sure enough the stuff they brought over was pretty lame. For the second order, I impressed upon the waitress that we wanted the really hot ones and she said, "You want 8 drops?" And I said, "Yeah, that sounds right." I had no clue what "drops" were, but the '8' rang a bell from our last visit. But the second batch was also very tolerable. The natives were beginning to get restless. They didn't say so in so many words, but clearly some skepticism was beginning to creep into their tone when I kept insisting that there is indeed a higher level of spiciness that could be had.

I called the waitress over again and said that the wings were just not hot enough. She was doubtful, but said (not very seriously I think), "You want 16 drops?" I was savvy to the drops unit by now and I said, sure, lets try that. But just make it 5 wings and get us 15 more of the previous level (8, in our estimation). She returned with the two sets of wings and right away we can tell that a new level has been reached. There were fumes coming off of the wings. RD and I graciously ceded the new batch to the newbies. After some hesitation, Sanjay, Rahul, and Siva dove in. Or I should say, took a tentative bit each. And then they stopped. They seemed to be experiencing some difficulty with speech and their eyes were tearing up. Sweat was forming on their foreheads and there was a stillness to their posture. To the rest of us, especially me, it was a riot. The looks on their faces was priceless - it was mission accomplished. After a while, Rahul got up and took a walk - like somebody with a muscle cramp, he was attempting to walk it off. He returned to the table and declared that it had worked.

In the meantime, Murali had just started on his first nuclear wing. He was being surprisingly timid. Much was expected of him, but he failed us - after a bite or two, he gave up. He made another attempt on a second wing, but that too didn't last long. To his credit he did manage to finish off a third one (that was conspicuously small), but by then the damage was done - his reputation as the King of Heat was down in flames, literally. Sanjay, on the other hand, was a true stalwart - attempting and finishing off two of the nuclear wings. I suppose this should not have been too surprising given the spice levels that Geetha is fond of.

The effect of the spice was being expressed in loud tones and we were attracting the attention of our neighboring tables. We offered them a sample, but they wisely declined. Then we realized with horror that the batch of 15 wings were also at the super spicy level. I managed one, but when I started on a second one, I had to stop short. This was unlike anything I had experienced before. To say that my mouth was on fire was difficult, because that would actually require being able to form words and emit sounds. I tried the sit-still approach, but that was useless. Sweat was pouring off of me and after several agonizing moments, I decided I had to try the Rahul technique and walk it off. As I got off the table, a cheer rose from the next one - I guess that given how much merriment I had been deriving from the suffering of the rest of our group, the sight of me capitulating was cause for celebration. Heck, they even snapped some photos of us!

The spice was having a real effect - the overall mood became much more jolly and almost everything began to sound real amusing. All the expected jokes about experiencing the wings coming and going were made. Sanjay predicted that it was going to be water for everybody the next morning. The use of baby wipes was suggested. Some soul who seemed to have some experience in these matters suggested first putting the wipes in the fridge - presumably for an extra cooling effect. Murali attempted to repair the torn shreds of his reputation by laying down one preposterous challenge after another - "I am going have 2 more!" "But you can only get them in batches of 5" "Ok, I'll have 5 then!" We dissuaded him from this foolishness. So then he goes, "Ok, then I'll just drink the sauce from the previous batch." We almost took his car keys away.

Eventually we had to leave and we spent some time standing outside the joint, just watching the folks coming in. Sanjay made a whiplash move to catch a new arrival (apparently he was just checking out the hat she was wearing) and dropped the carryout box that he had for the sample he was going to bring home for Geetha. His explanation of why he lost control of his hands while enjoying a fashionable hat was not very convincing. But then, we were not in a picky mood either, so we let it pass.

The spice was still roiling our tummies and a general cry for ice cream went out. We spotted a Gelato place across the street and headed there. By now, all thoughts of shopping were out the window and thankfully we were spared the sight of three middle aged men heading off to shop for shoes, together. Of course, a small cup of gelato was hardly sufficient to douse the flames. I had a violent fit of hiccups soon after I got home and had two Tums to calm things down. RD noted the next day that his stomach was not "very jolly." When I ran into Siva the next day, he expressed regret at not having acted on the baby wipes idea. Both Sanjay and Ravi continued to suffer through the day, but also experienced cravings for the wings. I do have it on good authority that neither of them are planning to expand their family.

An outing for half-priced chicken wings for a BoNO had all the promise of being a snooze fest, but boy, were we wrong - happily so, of course.