Big Barn Bar-B-Que's specialty dry-rubbed and pecan-smoked meats stock hungry mouths with succulent tastes backed by a cavalcade of sides. The menu enumerates a choice of 10 different meats, including two-meat plates that pair together savory combinations of carnivorous fare such as a tender arrangement of chopped brisket, classic baby back ribs, or jalapeño-cheddar sausage. Sides such as coleslaw and potato salad celebrate refreshing, cooling textures, and crisp fried okra and onion rings tantalize taste buds more completely than PhD students learn the alphabet. As duos, quartets, or sextets revel in smoky delights and share tastes, iced teas, fountain drinks, and coffee anoint liquid intake apparatuses in preparation for a finishing course of just desserts—seasonal cobblers packing a palatable punch of fruits such as strawberry or peach and Mama's famous banana pudding, which reveals a union of fresh-blended bananas and crisp vanilla wafers.
Some people like a cold beer or a mixed drink with dinner, but the regulars at Rack Daddy's prefer their dinner with a side of smooth baize. They send pool balls careening across tables' upholstered surfaces, facing off in games of pool and billiards. Xena Pizza, located next door, supplies Seattle-style slices layered with toppings such as Canadian bacon and spicy Italian sausage. Patrons can stay until 2:00 a.m., at which time all of the cue balls turn into pumpkins.
The staccato snap of ricocheting billiard balls rises up through a warm chorus of cheering fans, who come together beneath signed jerseys from Josh Hamilton, Terry Bradshaw, and Emmitt Smith and 22 flat-screen televisions. Volcano's all-female staff works to make first-time guests feel like regulars without having to remember the jukebox's birthday, all the while delivering platters laden with half-pound Black Angus burgers crowned in chipotle spread. As darts flick through the air, sauce-covered hot wings fuel investigation into honey-hued cascades of brews and shakers chattering on cool loads of cocktails behind the bar.
New sets of friends formed by the mythological fates who determine shuffleboard teams sip libations while planning strategy. Golden Tee, a virtual golf game that draws a cult following, lets patrons compete against players sprinkled across the country or work on swings without the distraction of clouds shaped like a favorite paramecium. The bright jukebox sings a haunting siren melody to itchy index fingers, and the ambient satellite radio station plays hits from the top of the charts between selections.
Kicking back inside the "flip-flop friendly" beach-themed bar at Chow N Chill is easy. Wielding a cold one, cruise the menu for edibles such as the famous waffle burger topped with a fried egg, tomato, and two strips of crispy bacon sandwiched between two waffles—served with syrup for dipping. Kids can chow on waffle ham-and-cheese sandwiches or chicken nuggets, and at end of the meal, the whole family can fight over the last bite of bananas foster.
The Lash Lounge's founder Anna Phillips—an advanced certified eyelash-extension trainer—once traveled the nation to impart the art of semipermanent eyelash application to scores of fellow lash artists. Now, at all of Lash Lounge's locations, such artists work to ensure that every guest returns to their day-to-day activities batting fuller, darker lashes. They meticulously apply each synthetic strand to a natural lash with medical-grade glue, imbuing peepers with a customized, natural look that can last up to two months with proper care. Applying lashes of varying lengths, thicknesses, and degrees of curl, they have earned the praise of publications including Allure magazine and Women's Wear Daily.
They also strive to eliminate lengthy daily makeup applications with permanent-makeup services. After a complimentary consultation, a staff of licensed aestheticians and permanent-makeup artists precisely applies permanent eyeliner, lip color, or third eyebrows. For those who prefer makeup that washes off, Anna has concocted her own line of mineral cosmetics, brushes, and primers.
The six-headed hydra of spontaneous comedy known as Four Day Weekend has been wreaking havoc on North Texas doldrums since 1997. Critically adored by the metroplex’s most prominent presses, the group squelches laughter droughts with their weekend bouts of unscripted hilarity. The professional troupe of cut-ups, many with film and Second City Conservatory of Chicago credentials, happily share the tricks of the trade in their four-level training center. Emphasizing “truth in comedy,” the curriculum covers fundamentals such as characterization and long-form improv, giving students the tools they need to extract their inner hilarity or survive an hour in a prop closet with Greg Proops.