Party over here: Exploring the night life in Pullman

EDITOR'S NOTE - Jayda Evans had never been to Pullman before this week. This is the final article in a five-part series as she discovered the essence of Pullman.

PULLMAN - Did I call this place detox? Ha!

I mean, where did these tales of boredom come from?

"People who say there's nothing to do in Pullman are the type of people who just sit around and do nothing anyway," said Mike Levenseller, a Cougar assistant football coach. "They'd say the same thing about Seattle. But the truth is, there's nothing you can do in Seattle that you can't do here."

Yes, Virginia, you can party all week in Pullman. And I did - after I was done working.

Tuesday, I made my way up to "The Hill," where the Washington State campus is, to ask students about the night life. Aside from the high campus-wide GPA and genius grads like Paul Allen, I knew everybody wasn't studying all night or watching television.

The students said Thursday was the hot night, so Tuesday must have been en fuego.

Let's start with the bus. A raggedy yellow school bus with the inscription "A Mission From God" out front and a driver named Russ blaring rock inside will either pick you up and take you to Shermer's or take you from Shermer's to the next party stop of your choosing.

Oh, and Tuesday night is half-priced hard liquor at Shermer's.

The bar was busted last year for over serving, among other things, and had to stop running the bus, but has started the service again.

Sweet.

"We were the hottest bar in town," said Tam Shermer, an owner with her husband of 31 years. "Now we have to run our restaurant 24 hours just to pay the bank back from all the trouble we had."

The place is tame but Tuesday was a flashback to the place's heyday.

After debating hunting laws with D.J. Parker, a construction worker, and trying to keep his buddy Mike Pickering from stripping, I rode the bus from Shermer's to Valhalla on "The Hill."

I don't want to remember much about the bus ride. It was loud, the driver was nice and a couple of drunk guys were standing in the back, doing something to the music.

Despite the huge dance floor and tight hip-hop tracks at Shermer's, there weren't any women. They were at Valhalla for karaoke night.

"During Halloween I sung about 12 songs in a row," said Derek Tweedy, a WSU senior. "I'm known around here."

Tweedy didn't get to sing that night, but I roamed with him and his roommate Ryan Westendorf, a senior pre-pharmacy major, to the Alpha Tau Omega house after Valhalla closed. It was 2 a.m. and I overheard about seven frat brothers in the men's bathroom calling spirits on a Ouiji board, shrieking as they spooked themselves.

On Wednesday, I had to recharge. Especially since word around the CUB and student bookstore was that Thursday was going to be wild, since school was out for Thanksgiving on Friday and alumni were arriving for the Apple Cup.

Using the advice of Cougar grads, I started Thursday night at Rico's and I didn't want to leave. The sultry sound from Smokehouse 5, a student jazz band, was my style but I knew I had to go to The Coug in order to say I partied in Pullman.

"Yeah, we're different than The Coug," said Meghan Schoonover, who played the piano sitting on thick law and psychology books to reach the keys comfortably. "We're like a faculty and grad student kind of crowd."

The Coug is straight-up Greek and packed into a place about as big as a Queen Anne studio apartment.

At The Coug, there was graffiti everywhere, which is bad, but Greek graffiti is worse. Even the toilet seat was tagged by Alpha Chi Omega.

"Maybe you'd like Shaker's," said Chris Miller, a senior advertising major who was hawking dogs and nachos outside the bar. "They have dancing, which is new for the campus."

Heaven.

D.J. Lover J had cuts spinning to keep the packed basement moving to the beat. A sea of students from every background jammed to the beat and even said "excuse me" if they bumped into you. Upstairs was a packed sports bar.

I went back to my hotel satisfied I had done everything possible in Pullman, from hanging out in the wheat fields to sampling Cougar Gold cheese. All that's left is the game.

So how do I sum up my stay in Pullman? Well, let me tell you my Ken Vogel story, since everyone in Pullman has at least one.

Vogel owns the last independent clothing store downtown and probably is the essence of Pullman. I walked in unannounced yesterday and started fiddling with his collection of coffee mugs with chocolate lover inscriptions. In mid-conversation, Vogel whispered to the two college students to "watch this, I bet she likes chocolate." Then he walked over to me and asked if I had lunch.

"Yes," I replied, remembering the laughfest I had at Swilly's with the mayor, the voice of Cougar football and employees from the Chamber of Commerce.

"Well, did you have dessert?" Vogel asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, take off your right glove anyway and hold out your hand," he said, holding a ceramic milk jug with a heart cut out in the middle. "Here's something to tide you over till dinner."

Then he poured M&M's in my hand, smiled and went back to his conversation.

I wouldn't live in Pullman, but that interaction captured my week. A simple gesture filled me with youthful innocence and how I imagined life should be as a kid eating candy and playing in the snow.

That's Pullman - a warm feeling.