Best Happy Hour 2009 | Wildfish Seafood Grille | Bars & Clubs | Phoenix

Seventy-five-cent oysters? Five-dollar blood-orange margaritas? Five-dollar Bacardi mojitos? With prices this good, you could surely be forgiven for assuming that we were talking about some desperate hole in the hinterlands, offering incredible deals in hopes of luring someone — anyone — to spend happy hour at their place. But no. Unbelievably, all this is going on in one of the swankest dining rooms in the Scottsdale Fashion Square area — the lovely, stylin', and downright tasty Wildfish. During the summer, incredibly, these deals last all night long in the bar area, along with $5 off on an array of appetizers, including Wildfish's awesome salt-and-pepper gulf shrimp and the crab cake that New Times previously named the best in Phoenix. Not surprisingly, the place draws quite a crowd, but the bar area is spacious enough that you still won't get jostled — perhaps the best happy hour promise of all.

What woman doesn't fantasize about relaxing under a palm tree on a sandy beach, being tended to by sexy waiters bearing fruity cocktails with little umbrellas? Well, we can't promise the sand or the tree, but ladies can live out the rest of their fantasies at Hurricane Bay's Wednesday Luxe Ladies Night. The 10,000-square-foot space was renovated earlier this year with such femme-friendly additions as plush padded seats and a sleek new wooden bar inlaid with pretty seashells. Of course, there's no entrance fee for women on Wednesdays. But the best part of Ladies Night at Hurricane Bay is that the $5 dude-cover scares off enough gents to leave most of the dance floor for us gals. Sorry, boys, but the beats (and, okay, the $4 Flashy-tini specials) are why we're really there.

Rodney Dangerfield complained about receiving no respect, but we wonder how he would have done in a dress and high heels. Women in comedy nowadays don't have to play second banana to any dude, so Ronnie Deleski, Jacki Orr, and Amy Jean Page birthed Muff Mondays as a yonic-slanted comedy showcase. The monthly variety show is a mix of stand-up, sketches, music, and video that is smart and funny no matter what's between your legs. Do beware, though, boys — their humor does have teeth. Take, for example, the game show-style journey through ex-boyfriends called "Guess His Dick Size."

While there's a slew of bars around this 'burg — both gay and straight — offering "all-male revues" (read: hunky men stripping down to their unmentionables), only two clubs in the Valley dare go for the "Full Monty": Dick's Cabaret and its recently opened spin-off, II Dick's. Both flesh parlors serve up more lean meat than a butcher shop, featuring dozens of strapping male dancers getting as nude as the day they were born, each night of the week.

And it isn't just gay men stopping by for an eyeful, as an equal number of females turn out at either location to ogle boys and bros alike, gazing at six-pack abs, bulging muscles, and, uh, ample endowments that their boyfriends or husbands might not possess. Nightly deals are also offered (such as one admission price that gets you into both clubs, as well as $5 cover and dances on Wednesdays and Thursdays), so the lovely and licentious ladies of the Valley can transform into cat-calling looky-loos on the cheap. Where's the beef (or more specifically, "Where's the beefcake?")? It's down at Dick's Cabaret, yo.

Babylon Show Club's design reflects its hedonistic sensibilities — a giant gargoyle greets patrons outside, while the interior is filled with red zebra-stripe carpet, red and black leather booths, five giant-screen TVs, and a "custom smoking section." There's a full kitchen, too, which serves up nachos and hamburgers, and an awesome sound system that pumps out 6,000 watts of power. The dancers are attractive and clean-looking. And they actually attempt routines that incorporate the onstage poles and other props instead of simply moving around and taking their clothes off with bored looks on their faces. The club also hosts its share of parties, including the first Arizona Porn Star Ball, in February, and regular get-togethers for the "adventurous couples" club at

Usually, people go to strip clubs to look at the strippers. But at Pink Cabaret, patrons are encouraged to check themselves out, too. The ground floor of the large cabaret is covered almost entirely with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, which means guys can check their hair (or bulge) on their way to the bar, bathroom, or stage. Meanwhile, the dancers can fixate on their own reflections while they gyrate and simultaneously keep an eye out for tipsy tippers staggering up to the stage behind them. The balcony contains a few large mirrors, too, but why walk up a flight of stairs for a bird's-eye view when there's a kaleidoscope of flesh below? Such a plethora of preening can also save you the humiliation of a friend telling you there's a booger hanging out of your nose. We'll throw a dollar down for that.

Best Place to See Girls Behaving Badly on the Dance Floor

Pussycat Lounge

Alcohol does some funny things to people. Get a few drinks inside the wallflowers and they'll instantly bloom into the biggest social butterflies. For evidence of this axiom, hang out in Scottsdale on any given weekend and watch bookish babes turn into rampaging party girls after only a few shots. This nightlife phenomenon is most apparent at Pussycat Lounge, the notorious Old Town danceteria that's infamous as a domain of debaucherous behavior by bad girls of all shapes and sizes. The ladies tend to check their inhibitions at the door as well as their coats, as we've lost count at the number of times we've seen sexy sirens clad in American Apparel and D&G denim bumping and grinding together on the dance floor to the strains of T-Pain's "Low" or Lil Wayne's "Lollipop." Even better, inebriated lasses tend to enjoy working the two stripper poles located inside the club or performing impromptu table dances to titillate (or embarrass) their companions for the evening. Meanwhile, the darkened corners of VIP sections are often occupied by femme fatales either perched on the laps of their boyfriends (or well-moneyed "uncles"), or perhaps sneaking in a snogging session with another member of the fairer sex. The Pussycat also underwent a complete renovation recently, which means there's now much more room for girls to go wild.

Though we understand the place lost some of its atmosphere in the move from Gilbert Road and Chandler Boulevard to the center of Queen Creek, and though they don't always have a band on both weekend nights, we still love the natty little dance floor at Norton's Country Corner. This humble little roadhouse traces its lineage back to 1918 and was once a major stop on the Arizona honky-tonk circuit. These days, though, it sticks to cover bands. But if you're looking for someplace to shuffle around in your Tony Lamas while a pedal-steel whines out "Tonight the Bottle Let Me Down," this is it.

Not that anything could really replace Glam. With Faux Show Friday Nights and Word Up! Saturdays, the unsuspecting club in a forgettable strip mall in Phoenix — which, sadly, closed a while back — exploded every weekend. It was our nightlife diamond in the rough. Its Saturday Night Fever light-up dance floor and one-stall stinky bathroom will forever hold a place in our scummy hearts. But we've found a club night that has all the flavor of Glam — with the disgusting bathrooms to boot. Party Foul! Fridays at Homme Lounge will fill that void. The cozy dance floor may not light up, but with a million blinking beams and strobe lights, the walls and low ceilings certainly do, making you feel as if you actually stepped inside a disco ball, rather than danced under it. The nights we spent there, packed like sardines in a virtual group grind, are nights we'll reminisce about when we're settled and boring with kids. With spins by the resident DJs Craig Citizen (of Faux Show fame), Kevin M.O.B. (of Word Up! Saturdays), Bigie Epidemic and BC/AD (not to mention a weekly roster that also includes a hot list of guest DJs) the sounds are mixed and fresh. While "mixed" and "fresh" will never be words used to describe the air quality inside the club, you can find "relief" on the enclosed smoking patio. It's all in the spirit of partying, right? And it's certainly in the spirit of Glam.

If you subscribe to the theory that alcohol makes you more attractive, a wittier conversationalist, or even a fearless pugilist, then you likely believe a few beers can transform you into a championship billiards player or an ace rifleman. Put your theory to the test at this West Valley watering hole, where a large variety of bar games and drunken distractions abound. Try putting away some pints of Fat Tire and see if you can channel the spirit of Minnesota Fats while shooting stick on one of Marc's five pool tables. Or see if you're as big a card shark as Jerry Yang or Peter Eastgate during the weekly Texas hold'em night on Wednesday (when all domestics and call drinks are $1 off). If you feel like firing off a few rounds after downing a round or two of $4 Washington apple or Red-Headed Slut shots on Tuesdays, amble on over to the Big Buck Hunter arcade game and blast some virtual does and deers with your plastic rifle. There's also NTN trivia and free ping-pong daily, while the adjacent MarcTini Lounge hosts karaoke every night. Drink up, big shooter, there's plenty of fun and games to be had at Marc's.

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