Worst of Bloomington

As the illustrious cultural institution it is, the annual Best of Bloomington issue wouldn’t be complete without a little ragging on what didn’t make the list.

After all, there’s nothing the average WEEKEND reader loves more than laughing at others’ shame (that’s why we reviewed Heidi Montag’s latest album). Without further ado, some of the people, places and events that only the thoroughly inebriated or severely concussed would nominate for a recognition of excellence.

Worst Late Night Munchies: The free peanuts at the Alley Bar. Most of us seasoned drinkers are happy to have free snacks to get us through an all-night bender, but shoving salt and E. coli down a gullet that was already going to be puking and dehydrated in five hours is maybe not the best idea.

Worst Greek House: G100 Elementary Greek. I showed up in my toga carrying a 12-pack of Bud Light, and all I got for my trouble was a referral to Counseling and Psychological Services.  

Worst Place for Live Entertainment: Some dude’s basement. There’s nothing I love more than showing up to some poorly lit, roach-infested hole only to be told I’ll have to drink the beer warm because the “fridge down here’s broken.” No thanks, I’m going to The Bishop. The beer’s at least cold there.

Worst Place for Coffee: Starbucks — just kidding. It actually won in the ‘best’ category. Who am I to second-guess the voters, who obviously have such discriminating and sophisticated palates? I mean, we only have upwards of a dozen locally run coffee shops in town, most of which roast and grind their own beans in-house.  

Worst Place for a Date: Planned Parenthood. You really shouldn’t end up there until three or four dates down the road.

Worst Annual Event: The first class of Little 500 week. Obviously, some never make it to this annual event as they’re passed out naked in Showalter Fountain. However, the ones that do are in for a circus of beer breath, sex hair and the occasional poor soul who breaks the speed barrier to get out of class and into the closest bathroom in time.
 
Worst Local Celebrity: The “Woodburn Preacher.” I’m not sure if it’s been the same guy this whole time, but every year I ask if he does kids’ parties and he turns me down. All I want is to put the fear of God into the little Damiens!

Worst Restaurant: The Royal Dog. The graffiti and boarded windows attest to what a premiere establishment The Royal Dog has become. Go for a hot beef injection, stay for the crack deals and the threats to bodily safety!