Columnist 4 sale?

Madison's hosted the sixth annual "Guys and Dolls" bachelor/bachelorette auction kickoff party benefitting the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation last Thursday. A $5 cover scored two dollar Miller Lites, creating a win-win for the charity's philanthropy and fellow beer consumers alike.

The February 18th event is a spectacle of some of Charlotte's finest available talent subjecting themselves to the flattery, er, or mockery, of public bidding. I've never been, but patrons assured me the $75 advance ticket is well worth the investment for an evening of interactive reality, dinner, and unlimited booze.

(Writer's personal note: Guys, charity events usually bring out some of the city's finer Dolls, which seems to level the testosterone-laden playing field. It's a good idea to plunk down the cash and enjoy the temporary fifty-fifty ratios.)

Candidates' profiles and advance ticket/sponsorship information are available at the Guys and Dolls website.

Stay tuned; I may have been coerced into submitting myself for consideration.

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Crush reports that 2006 is all about a new "upscale urban professional audience" for its weekend crowd. Acknowledging its college bar influence, the email press release indicates that DJ Rham is on board, formerly of CJ's at the Adam's Mark downtown. The music theme will be a mix of current hip-hop, R&B, and old school.

College night is unscathed on Wednesdays, and a free pass is available at www.crushcharlotte.com/wednesday.htm.

Their pesky dress code is still in effect, having dedicated a section to it on their website, but I've generally observed that Charlotte's club patrons exceed it anyway. Neverthless, it takes just one redneck to spoil it for everybody.

The club's makeover, seemingly aimed at attracting back the professional crowd, has obvious incentive. We earn more, and therefore spend more. But I sense that until they reconsider their location adjacent the Westin, they are handicapped by their distance from Center City.

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While the floor is collapsing at Zink American Kitchen, the restaurant is taking a time-out to allow construction to repair the unusual circumstances. The predicted timetable to reopen the doors is February 10th.

Possible reasons for the problem, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood nightlife columnist:

• IJL developers ignored the haunting signals as they erected the building over an old Indian burial ground;
• Two words: Quicksand footers!
• Tectonic plate shift is alive and well in Charlotte, as we drift further and further away from Europe; and
• Blame it on Bush's cronyism; it's the target of everything else lately.

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As we rev up toward NASCAR's exhaustive season, Dilworth Neighborhood Bar & Grill will be hosting Project: HALO's Daytona 500 party starting at 1:00 pm on Sunday, February 19th.

As a dog lover myself, I'm in complete support of a no-kill animal shelter (it's how I found mine, my affectionate canine editor named Eddie). The event's tax-deductible $20 cover includes heavy appetizers, a silent auction, raffle giveaways, $1.75 Miller Lites, and $2.00 Buds.

The old Graduate's guts were ripped out and overhauled over a year ago, leaving them still on their feet with an upstate New York-influenced menu and spacious basement perfect for watching the race.

But as I reported in August, the building's future is no longer an issue of "if," but "when." Sources confirm that the new development group plans to raze the facility, including the fish market and other adjoining property, for a mixed-use development to occupy the entire corner of McDowell and Morehead.

Try their wings while you can.

Email Bryan. Join my friends list at www.myspace.com/brneil.

New Year's Peeve

What frankly is a tradition better spent embracing the company of your pals and loved ones at home, while ironically swiping my plastic for $59.07 for the 9th annual New Year’s Eve Party at Southend Brewery & Smokehouse (2100 South Blvd., 704-358-4677, www.southendbrewery.com), carved right at the heart of my very own credibility after historically shunning this option.

But friendships prevailed when we relieved the house party in favor of one of promoter John Lineberger’s “card” parties commonly sprinkled around town throughout the year. Individually named sponsors promised to publicize it through a word-of-mouth distribution, which wasn’t really necessary considering the event’s eight year history.

Billed as “Charlotte’s Best New Year’s Value,” the flat-rate purchase offered a predictable product of open bar (calls & top shelf liquor excluded), buffet-style food, DJ T-Nice, midnight champagne, and party favors.

What they failed to convey was that it would be... a... disaster. We were overcharged, they were overbooked, and the 9th annual Southend New Year’s Eve Party, my friends, was overrated.

Revelers were greeted with a thirty to forty-five minute wait in the chilly air while behavior was reduced to juvenile antics such as line cutting, a despicable and frustrating observation that was completely avoidable.

Reportedly, as many as one thousand tickets were sold (as conveyed by the intent of management at the time of my purchase; mine was #562 on Thursday, two days beforehand). It felt every bit of it. The restaurant’s horseshoe interior, reduced to a thin line of traffic at the front to navigate around the center brewhouse, bottlenecked both sides into a claustrophobic nightmare flanked by only two men’s and two women’s restrooms. The sidecar tent adjacent to the main bar was ineffective at alleviating the crowds that probably flirted with a fire marshal citation.

Watching the vultures (including yours truly) devour a small tub of boring domestic beers before a barback could even finish stocking it left the score at 12:30 a.m. in favor of Southend, who legally extracted my sixty dollars in exchange for a disappointing misrepresentation of the Best New Year's Value. Southend's popular homemade brews were not even reasonably attainable.

The food buffet, an array of meatballs, chicken wings, and fried chicken tenders, was hardly “lavish,” affirming that the party was pretty much worth the paper the promotional card was printed on.

A pro-rata refund of our money, although presumably mythical, is in order.

I wonder if ol’ Dick Clark, whose refreshing return to television was my evening highlight, would have even said a few things about celebrating his annual showcase under this duress.

But to Lineberger’s credit, he has been nothing short of a professional in prior engagements, and past parties have been worth the investment. To coin a favorite acronym, however, is appropriate: Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance.

Some suggestions to keep the tenth anniversary free of critical review:

Will-call, no-go. Demand appears to have reached a level that organizers have the upper hand to insist on purchasing tickets, in person, in advance. Ticketed customers, like yours truly, waited the same time as A-L and M-Z. Ask the thousands of N.C. State fans who suffered a similar fate outside the Meineke Car Care Bowl this weekend.

Guns n’ butter economics. The party claimed eight straight years of a sellout. Lower the headcount, and raise the sticker price. The admission fee is not price-sensitive; consider that other events charge more.

No babies on board. Heavily staff the ID checks at the door and restrict access to 21+ only. Please do away with the clumsy, time-consuming need to strap a sticky paper band on my wrist that rips out my arm hair.

Free the beer. The bartenders are too busy to serve your “free” beer when enjoying the top-shelf tips; separate the suds to their own tub stations.

Johnny on the Spot. A handful of exterior portable toilets would have been appropriate, considering the long lines. Observed bathroom behavior, including visits from the opposite sex, cannot be reprinted here.

Stay home. Perhaps the party’s at my house next year?

Have a crummy New Year also? Post a reply or reach Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered.