Badlands' western motif starts as soon as you pull into the parking lot, with a faux log-cabin front and lasso-wrapped sign. Inside, the wood paneling is punctuated with mounted stag heads, crossed six-shooters and tooled leather holsters. There's country on the jukebox and a neon sign promoting Bud Light and Tim McGraw over rows of bottles, but the abundance of rainbows and the occasional burst of Bette Midler remind you it ain't all redneck.
The other recurring motif is bovine. I haven't seen so many cows since the last time I visited my mother's bathroom. (Actually, they've got a set of ceramic heifer wind chimes behind the bar that I swear Mom used to have on the back porch.) Even the sides of the pool table have been touched up with black-and-white spots -- and did I mention that pool is only a quarter? Twenty-five cents a game, my friends. And the drinks are cheap too!
More than a theme bar or even a gay bar, Badlands feels like a neighborhood bar. Where else do regulars have their own personalized beer mugs in name-taped cubbyholes? Or clear their own empties so the bartender can get to that after-shift date he's been crowing about? The crowd is predominantly male, tending to the over-30, and many are dressed for their surroundings, even if cowboy hats make hello kisses a bit tricky. You can also find the odd pair of heterosexuals enjoying the inexpensive billiards -- but bear in mind the Green Door swingers' club is only a few storefronts over and that awfully friendly couple from Arizona might be trying to get to know you a little better than you think. Still, as long as you don't kick up any dust, the Badlands has a welcoming smile and a strong pouring hand for all.
-- Lissa Townsend Rodgers