Shake it like you got it. Herman's Hideaway was the first live-music venue I got into with a fake ID. As a Denver teen who hadn't traveled much, I imagined that it was our version of New York's legendary CBGB, thethoroughly hip and cool place to see up-and-coming bands. And to a certain extent, I was right: Herman's was the local launching pad for such groups as Big Head Todd and the Monsters, the Subdudes and Opie Gone Bad. As a Denver adult who's traveled a lot, I still love going to Herman's. The sound quality is often painful, but the people-watching is some of the best in town. When I stopped by recently, I got to watch an old burned-out hippie dude, a skanky drunk-dancing/weaving tattooed chick, and an angry guy who wished there was a mosh pit. But my favorite person of the evening was the bartender, who suggested I try his "Don't Name Your Fucking Kid After Me" shot. Not only did he clearly have a great sense of humor, but when I asked the price, he said, "Five dollars, because I like you." Created with Absolut Mandarin vodka, Midori, pineapple and a splash of cranberry, this drink is a fruity concoction that made Herman's character -- and characters -- all the sweeter.