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Tippling Over Trivia
Monday May 15, 2006.
By Erin Brereton
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 I figured I could use a little luck. But wouldn't you know it, the city seemed to be having a shortage of heads-up sidewalk-pennies and dismembered rabbits' feet, so when I heard about Lucky Strike Lanes' "Feeling Lucky" Thursday night promotion, featuring specials and movie trivia, I figured I'd take what I could get. And being as Lucky Strike is the downtown area's high-energy billiard/game/bowling alley, I figured that might not be as easy as it sounded. I am not, as some would say, a "strong bowler." When I was about nine, in the height of my mother's lesson frenzy (my children... must...learn...everything), she signed me up for bowling lessons. But even after several weeks of lessons I was a terrible bowler: I almost broke a pin resetting machine by tossing the ball without realizing it hadn't finished its pin-resetting job; I hit the gutter so often you'd have thought I was a teen celeb halfway through a weekend in Vegas. After every lesson, which I attended with a neighbor around my age, the neighbor's mom would spend the entire ride home telling me how I needed to improve my form. She also used to ask us whether or not we thought she should take the highway home, which I never felt I really could accurately weigh in on because, you know, I WAS NINE AND COULDN'T DRIVE. Still, as sad as my skills were, bowling was really the closest I'd ever come to organized sports, so when I heard about Lucky Strike's Thursday event, I was sort of excited to strap on those communal shoes and see if growing up had given me more balance. But when my friend and I arrived, we were seated in a giant banquette behind the bowling alley—which was empty. Apparently a private party had just left, and the lanes were, as they often are weeks in advance, I'm told, totally booked. So there'd be no bowling for Matt and I. There would, however, be drinking (as there often is with Matt and I). And when our Vince Vaughn-y waiter, Manny, stopped by to discuss our order, we were shocked to find the bar offered 28-ounce or 60-ounce pitchers. Someone makes a 60-oz. martini shaker?!? Happy hour, indeed. The deal is this: From 4 to 7 p.m. on Thursdays, you can get the 28-ounce size of sangria for $7, margaritas for $8 and cosmos for $9. The 60-ounce sells for $15 for sangria, $20 for margaritas and $25 for cosmos (although if you're drinking 60 ounces of cosmo—even with a friend—chances are you're not going to really understand whether or not that's a deal). It's basically a two-for-one deal based on the bar's usual drink prices. Although we had heard there were complimentary apps, we couldn't find any, and Manny had no idea what I was talking about, so we instead ordered the delish mac and cheese bites ($7.50 worth of fried goodness, worth every penny) and the cheese and tomato s'more sandwiches ($7.50), which thankfully didn't involve marshmallow at all as I'd originally feared. After six, the "Strike to Win" trivia frenzy began. Waiters asked if tables needed paper, pens were poised. But I figured we had an in. As a child, I read movie trivia books for fun. I memorized release years and co-stars, and I'd seen my fair share of movies (you'd be surprised how much a college internship in Kentucky will really make a girl appreciate her Blockbuster card). Which is why we breezed through the five questions. It's a bit hard to hear, what with the bowling/pool playing/boy carousing going on in the background, but we even nailed the tricky last question about what town a movie with Cher, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer took place in (Eastwick, yo). But the trivia, we quickly learned, is for those with quick minds and fast feet. Because it doesn't matter really if you get all the answers right, it matters if you can get your sheet of correct answers up to the DJ booth first. Matt ran, but only the top five advance to the next round, and we weren't in that group. The prizes are great. You can nab a $100 Lucky Strike gift certificate; come back weekly and win week after week and you might nab a $20,000 Chicago shopping spree. But the trivia went so fast (it was maybe 10 minutes total), it left me wanting more. Hey, I've got a whole bunch of worthless movie trivia upstairs in this melon; let me ponder things awhile. Instead we downed our second sangria glass—each 28-oz pitcher gets you about two glasses—and popped up to get a tour of the joint. I started to realize that although I had thought the sangria was weak (it didn't have any fruit floating in it, which confused me), I was a little bit buzzed. So I stumbled out into the near-night, where it was pouring cold rain—with that week, what was to be expected? Until suddenly a cab pulled up in front—a minivan cab, no less. What luck! And with that, I ambled in, slammed the door shut and rolled on home. Wanna check out Lucky Strike's Thursday night movie trivia night? Visit the bar, located at 322 E. Illinois or call (312) 245-8331.
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