Saddle Ridge is a rock 'n' country nightclub with an attached sit-down restaurant, the Cheyenne Supper Club. The two venues' shared menu includes American classics, such as starters of barbecue chicken wings ($8.95) and potato skins loaded with cheese and bacon ($6.95). Tend to massive hunger rumbles with hearty hunks of main-course meat, such as the savory 8 oz. filet mignon, grilled to order with demi-glaze, mashed potatoes, and green beans ($18.95). For a handheld version, try the thin-sliced meat of the beef dip, with provolone cheese and jus dip ($7.95). Lighter eaters can opt for a flavorfully buoyant mixed-green house salad with cherry tomatoes, shredded cheese, cucumbers, bacon bits, and croutons ($5.95).
Although it now has more than 430 locations in 28 countries, Hooters wasn’t always welcomed by the public. In fact, when it opened in October 1983 in Clearwater, Florida, the founders of the restaurant were “quickly detained for impersonating restaurateurs,” according to the company's website. But the restaurant was able to prove it was more than just a pretty face—that it was serious about serving tasty American food and frosty brews—and its popularity exploded in the decades to follow.
Amid its beach-themed vibe and flat-screen TVs, Hooters still fuels appetites with original chicken wings, burgers, sandwiches, and fresh salads. Of course, nobody carries those casual eats and icy pitchers better than the Hooters girls. To complement their friendly smiles, their uniforms harken back to the ones the original waitresses wore in 1983: orange hot shorts and white tank tops with the emblematic owl on the front—though that owl has lost its Lionel Richie perm.
A pair of stock cars sits beneath the checkered-flag designs of NASCAR Sports Grille's exterior, which contains a chorus of cheering fans basking in the glow of three 16-foot televisions that beam live races and sports. Tables and a long, wooden bar sit beneath the towering displays, and cozy booths—each with a built-in TV—form an intimate setting where fans can attempt to feed nachos to the images of their favorite athletes. Outside, NFL banners hang from the ceiling of a covered patio, where groups share appetizers of homemade crab dip. Each of these eating arenas sets a competitive stage for grill fare all-stars, including six juicy burgers coated in eclectic toppings such as bourbon chili.
At first glance, Keagan's Irish Pub and Finn McCool's don't seem so different. Both are thoroughly Irish establishments, serving traditional dishes of shepherd's pie, bangers 'n' mash, and fish ’n’ chips in dining rooms adorned with dark woods and stonework accents. Both also feature regular karaoke nights and live-music acts that regale patrons with songs so catchy they're under investigation by the CDC. But Finn McCool's stands out from its sister restaurant in one important aspect—its seafood bar, replete with broiled oysters and clams, steamed shrimp and snow crab, and sautéed mussels that arrive to tables solo or in hefty combination platters.
Arcadia Evolutions enthuses joystick jockeys of all dedication levels with more than 1,000 game titles, as well as multiplayer games boosted by high-speed Internet, high-definition television screens and computer monitors, and a variety of vintage and current gaming consoles. An all-day gaming pass grants avatar aficionados with unlimited game play on current consoles such as Xbox 360, Nintendo Wii, and PS3, as well as retro machines that require human breath-blowing and other old-school tricks to remain in operating order. The gaming mecca houses multiple copies of each game to avoid long Paperboy lines and to encourage identical twins to creepily play Castlevania in tandem. Business hours stretch into late-night territory, allowing thumb athletes to swap hand-callus horror stories anytime between 10 a.m. and 12 a.m. on weekends, or 10 p.m. on weeknights.
The weathered sign outside reads "99 Beers & Ales," directing visitors toward The Weekend Pub's beer list, which overflows with domestic and imported brews. Inside, pint glasses fill with an earth-toned rainbow of suds hailing from Ireland, Scotland, Africa, the Philippines, and France. Hands wrap around familiar bottles from St. George and Celis or slowly count off syllables when writing haikus about Weihenstephaner kristall. Glasses lift against the steady beat of clattering plates, laden with a menu of shaved-steak sandwiches and sirloin burgers crowned in Guinness-based sauce. As eyelids sink contentedly to half-mast, patrons toss beanbags or darts at their respective target in contests of eye-hand coordination. Some evenings, teams compete to correctly answer trivia questions in exchange for prizes and the right to high-five each other every hour on the hour. The sounds of acoustic guitars and tremulous vocals waft through the air during open-mike nights and live musical acts on the weekends.