Is a Jägerbomb worth risking pneumonia?

Late last Thursday night I was tooling around in my Geo Prizm doing donuts in the stadium parking lot. The fresh four inches of powder gave me a once-in-a-winter chance to turn my four-cylinder economy ride into a performance ATV. \nBut on my way home, driving up Walnut I passed Kilroy's Sports Bar and noticed many fellow students not having as much fun as I in the night's winter wonderland. The line was out the door, which isn't surprising because honestly, who doesn't have a good time at Sports on Thursday? But what was shocking was the endless sight of shivering youths, ladies especially, wearing less layers than they would curled up in their cozy bed. \nWinters in Bloomington can be frigid… this past week especially. Why, oh why, aren't these youths thirsty for weekend libations bundled up in outerwear? Surely, their mothers taught them the value of layers and mittens. Has the allure of liquor and good company at the bar made them forget? \nAll down Kirkwood Ave. came the same story: scores of boys and girls shivering without the aid of Gortex, fleece, sweats or mink headwear, searching for heat in the form of a vendor's chili dog or from rubbing their exposed arms furiously up and down as though attempting to spark a fire. \nWhy doesn't anyone wear a coat to the bar? Easy. Wearing a coat in a warm, congested bar doesn't do much for fashion but plenty for body perspiration. A few blocks of cold discomfort is worth a few hours of inconvenience inside. \nI don't want to get Miller Lite and Jägermeister spilled all over my jacket, but don't want to risk pneumonia in order to bask in the fruits of college nightlife. Is there a happy medium? \nThen it hit me. How come no bars have a coat check? They're plentiful at fine restaurants, why not the bar? Wouldn't it make sense? \nAfter losing several nights of sleep pondering this issue (yes, I care about the student body -- no pun intended -- that much) I had to seek answers. \nI first stopped by Kilroy's Sports -- the origin of my quandary -- to ask them if they had a solution. They declined my request for an interview despite assuring them this wasn't an interview about finding rats in their kitchen, merely a question of whether there is anything they suggested to keep their patrons warm. \nThen I went to Kilroy's on Kirkwood. After asking to speak with a manager, the bouncer returned to inform me the manager says the IDS misquotes them too much so they don't do interviews anymore. C'mon, IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN COME UP WITH? That reply is likely because they have no answer to my more pertinent question. Or this is some kind of conspiracy…\nI made my way upstairs to the Jungle Room, where I was able to sit down with co-manager Keenan Gill and discuss the subject. Gill admitted the frosty weather had likely hurt attendance with national acts like the Locusts, and perhaps that night when the popular reggae band The Itals performed. \nGill pointed out that the Jungle Room had increased crowd monitoring during the winter. Doing everything from salting and shoveling their sidewalks, to calling cabs and ensuring safe rides home for everyone. But what about a coat check? \n"It makes sense," admitted Gill. "Many have requested it, we've looked into it, but our economy of space doesn't allow it. We don't even have storage for beer, food, anything."\nGill and I saw eye-to-eye in that too many ladies run around the streets in next to nothing, for fear of losing or damaging their jacket. Is there any way they can get around the bars safe and warm?\n"Wear a hat, bottle in the heat," suggested Gill. A hat? What about the hair she spent so long on? "No, leave it on," added Gill. "Make it a fashion statement." \nAfter sharing a good cry over the injustice (okay, only I was sobbing), I left the Jungle Room and made my way out into the windy, frozen tundra that is downtown B-town. Thankfully, I had on my wool hat, jacket, scarf, mittens and hand warmers to keep my temperature up, but I watched in agony as a flock of ladies scurried past, sans outerwear. I pleaded with them to give me their reasoning, but they refused to talk. Maybe it was because they were too cold, maybe it was because my warmest coat was my aunt's or maybe trekking around scantly clad in the snow was a sore subject? Whatever it was, they sure didn't look happy. \nSo ladies and gentlemen of legal age and those who have a little piece of plastic that says you are, remember: next time you go to your favorite bar, upon entry proclaim: "the patron has spoken! No longer must I suffer the sniffles I received for three days walking to your bar to spend all of my mummy and daddy's money! Give me coat check or give me… ummm… Late Night at the IMU"