We were not in competition, but I think my tailgate trumped Saturday night's Nextel All-Star Challenge.
Organized for the second year in a row, fellow drinking buddies' attendance quintupled last year's headcount and extended our tailgate hours, along with our waistlines, thanks to coolers of cheap beer.
What began as a last-minute excuse last year, one car of diehards now blossomed into a four-car convoy to Lowe's Motor Speedway, and a pre-purchased block of some of the cheapest seats available. Admittedly, it wasn't about the race, which ended up an afterthought.
So while Jimmie Johnson soaked himself in a victory here that's become patterned behavior, we preferred the refreshing shower that pushed back race times and forced us under tents and SUV trunk lids.
Race fans threw chicken bones. We threw bean bags at Cornhole, the latest tailgate craze. They listened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers perform an abbreviated set. We listened to four hours of commercial-free XM radio, and danced in the grass.
The Challenge has its flaws. Interruptions between the heats are a buzzkill, and the shortened segments leave little room to allow a driver to adapt and recover. Plus, every race every weekend is an all-star event, anyway.
It's a meaningless competition except for the million dollar payday, so I say make them prove they're a better driver (and athlete, or so they say), pure and simple. Suggested concept for my "NEILSCAR" All-Star event:
Segment one: Two laps in tricycles, chugging a beer every time they pass go, with a pit stop on lap two to change the big tire. Ah, Revenge of the Nerds comes to mind.
Segment two: One lap three-legged foot race, with their crew chief in tow. Yes, I realize it's a mile and a half, but they're athletes, remember?
Segment three: Seed the field according to the results of the first two, and give 'em go-karts for an all-out five lap race, with wrecking encouraged.
Now tell me you wouldn't pay for that. Actually, you may not have to; we were never ticketed at the gate this year.
***************
There's never been a better cornball lineup for this week's Speed Street stage events; if M.C. Hammer, REO Speedwagon, Twisted Sister, Stephen Pearcy (formerly of Ratt), and somebody called Your Mama's Big Fat Booty Band doesn't entice you to attend a free concert, then show up for nothing more than the bags of free useless crap you can swipe from participating sponsors.
A year's supply of Advil was welcome, but the travel-size deodorant sold me on why not to buy their product.
As I recently reported on the demise of the CityFest street concert series (moving to the N.C. Music Factory on the other side of downtown), this is your alternative. Lose the striped shirt and the usual urban pretenses; an opportunity presents itself to let your hair down.
Well, maybe just a little dab of gel will do.
Reach Bryan. Join his friends list on Myspace. Other suggested NEILSCAR events? Post a reply.
Monday, May 22, 2006
Monday, May 15, 2006
Cat Fight
Here, kitty kitty.
In the land of Panthers and Bobcats, a different kind of feline is stalking its prey. Watch as the elder female observes from afar, a twinkle in her eye, a slight crook in the corner of her mouth as her pulse quickens with the sight of perhaps the night’s first kill.
She attacks not with her claws; she’s armed with her checkbook.
In the dating game’s latest ironic twist, it’s the women getting the last laugh as the sophisticated, forty-something gal, either fresh off her divorce or buried in her career, is scooping up the twenty-something male for a little no-strings fun.
Adopting the phrase “cougar hunting,” its origins appear to be purring in the Manhattan bar scene, perhaps influenced by the ladies of “Sex and the City” fresh off its recent series finale.
Think: “Samantha, I’d like to introduce you to the cast of ‘Entourage.’” Or Demi’s playful assault on Ashton.
What used to be reserved for the silvery-haired gentleman, trading up his significant other for the younger model, is a confident lass who’s showing a little age, often surgically enhanced. She’s sporting that cleavage-bearing leopard skin top, a reward for the two hours a day she’s recently spent in the gym.
And she’s not interested in a relationship, thank you very much. She’s doing just fine, and as a cougar, hunting big game is her sport. The young cub, intrigued by the opportunity to experiment with experience, finds her maturity a refreshing alternative to the exhausting effort of peer dating. She just offered to buy him a drink, to boot.
The web has embraced the concept; a sponsored link on Google, www.idateacougar.com, runs its own message board tribute. Other sites like http://www.urbancougar.com/ even “scientifically” catalog the species into a phylum and a genus that equates the girl to a specific make of car.
Even her prey usually meets stereotypical classifications: The Junior Banker, The Frat Boy, The Friend’s Younger Brother, and in a classy appreciation of our understaffed border patrol, The Latino Gardner.
The cougars stalk our streets. They take prisoners. Welcome!
Without further adieu, several stops on the Urban Crawl offer the opportunity to stalk the respective parties, usually huddled in the masses for safety. Best bet? Go alone. And be afraid. Be very afraid.
Zink. This Harper’s-based concept, usually hosting the proverbial “girls’ night out,” tucks a respectable bar area behind its outdoor Tryon Street side patio. Even lazy weeknights bring out the after-work crowd, already dressed to impress. There are no bachelorette parties here—remember the age requirements—these girls come to play.
Village Tavern. SouthPark’s legendary outdoor concrete deck, oblivious to time, still puts hundreds on the terrace for weekly live acoustic, contemporary cuisine, and martinis. The safe, corporate crowd alone is an easy mix of the age gap primed for a cougar’s delicacy.
Capital Grille. Adjacent to Zink, the home of the best filet mignon in Charlotte also boasts one of the most exclusive bars in the city. Expect vice president-quality cougar and the junior exec that has no idea that his loosened tie and crumpled sleeve cuffs just made the pack squirm.
Mac’s Speed Shop. This lunchtime barbecue joint near South End makes no mistake after hours with a biker bar appeal just tawdry enough to attract even the “Trans Am;” urbancougar.com’s cataloging of the cigarette smoking, stone-washed Monday night barfly. Or, to borrow a buddy’s phrase, “trailer park hot.”
Blue. The hands-down frontrunner, accentuated by its weekend jazz, is quite simply the cougar mecca. There might as well be a room full of gazelles with Buckhead Saloon’s overflow potential. Owner Alex Myrick’s refined appeal, and his mean harmonica skills, create the perfect harmonious environment for the catty pursuits.
I’m in my thirties; although not immune to their pounce, I’d like to think this column passes the torch. Good luck, boys.
Reach Bryan. All emails will be answered. Join his Myspace friends list.
In the land of Panthers and Bobcats, a different kind of feline is stalking its prey. Watch as the elder female observes from afar, a twinkle in her eye, a slight crook in the corner of her mouth as her pulse quickens with the sight of perhaps the night’s first kill.
She attacks not with her claws; she’s armed with her checkbook.
In the dating game’s latest ironic twist, it’s the women getting the last laugh as the sophisticated, forty-something gal, either fresh off her divorce or buried in her career, is scooping up the twenty-something male for a little no-strings fun.
Adopting the phrase “cougar hunting,” its origins appear to be purring in the Manhattan bar scene, perhaps influenced by the ladies of “Sex and the City” fresh off its recent series finale.
Think: “Samantha, I’d like to introduce you to the cast of ‘Entourage.’” Or Demi’s playful assault on Ashton.
What used to be reserved for the silvery-haired gentleman, trading up his significant other for the younger model, is a confident lass who’s showing a little age, often surgically enhanced. She’s sporting that cleavage-bearing leopard skin top, a reward for the two hours a day she’s recently spent in the gym.
And she’s not interested in a relationship, thank you very much. She’s doing just fine, and as a cougar, hunting big game is her sport. The young cub, intrigued by the opportunity to experiment with experience, finds her maturity a refreshing alternative to the exhausting effort of peer dating. She just offered to buy him a drink, to boot.
The web has embraced the concept; a sponsored link on Google, www.idateacougar.com, runs its own message board tribute. Other sites like http://www.urbancougar.com/ even “scientifically” catalog the species into a phylum and a genus that equates the girl to a specific make of car.
Even her prey usually meets stereotypical classifications: The Junior Banker, The Frat Boy, The Friend’s Younger Brother, and in a classy appreciation of our understaffed border patrol, The Latino Gardner.
The cougars stalk our streets. They take prisoners. Welcome!
Without further adieu, several stops on the Urban Crawl offer the opportunity to stalk the respective parties, usually huddled in the masses for safety. Best bet? Go alone. And be afraid. Be very afraid.
Zink. This Harper’s-based concept, usually hosting the proverbial “girls’ night out,” tucks a respectable bar area behind its outdoor Tryon Street side patio. Even lazy weeknights bring out the after-work crowd, already dressed to impress. There are no bachelorette parties here—remember the age requirements—these girls come to play.
Village Tavern. SouthPark’s legendary outdoor concrete deck, oblivious to time, still puts hundreds on the terrace for weekly live acoustic, contemporary cuisine, and martinis. The safe, corporate crowd alone is an easy mix of the age gap primed for a cougar’s delicacy.
Capital Grille. Adjacent to Zink, the home of the best filet mignon in Charlotte also boasts one of the most exclusive bars in the city. Expect vice president-quality cougar and the junior exec that has no idea that his loosened tie and crumpled sleeve cuffs just made the pack squirm.
Mac’s Speed Shop. This lunchtime barbecue joint near South End makes no mistake after hours with a biker bar appeal just tawdry enough to attract even the “Trans Am;” urbancougar.com’s cataloging of the cigarette smoking, stone-washed Monday night barfly. Or, to borrow a buddy’s phrase, “trailer park hot.”
Blue. The hands-down frontrunner, accentuated by its weekend jazz, is quite simply the cougar mecca. There might as well be a room full of gazelles with Buckhead Saloon’s overflow potential. Owner Alex Myrick’s refined appeal, and his mean harmonica skills, create the perfect harmonious environment for the catty pursuits.
I’m in my thirties; although not immune to their pounce, I’d like to think this column passes the torch. Good luck, boys.
Reach Bryan. All emails will be answered. Join his Myspace friends list.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Drinko de Mayo
Taking this photograph was breathtaking; I swear I could have swept my hand on the horse's hide, while watching my money horse bringing up the rear.
Saturday's annual Queen's Cup Steeplechase, the region's complement to the upcoming Kentucky Derby, could not have gone better. The two and a half mile course, a grand display of turf and rolling landscape, literally dripped in sunshine and lived up to "fire ant-free" as advertised.
For Urban Crawlers, it was all about the Crest, an elevated tailgate for the poor man enjoying nearly a complete circumferential view of the course (the horse's ran two laps per race) for oh, about $125 per parking space.
Our two kegs of beer, a gas grill, and a circumferential view of the lovely ladies clad in their best spring gear (those hats were atrocious, though) was well worth the money I didn't spend. I was fortunate to accept an invite--from my accountant Jim Powderly--on his sponsored investment.
As usual, the odds were not in my favor; I had no horse in this fight all afternoon, and parted ways with about fifty bucks that could have subsidized one of those kegs.
By day's end, a perfect farmer's tan, a loss of beer count, and grass stains on my linen pants was all I had to show.
They'll be clean by next year.
***************
Although Cinco de Mayo's ill-timed Friday event may be overshadowed by the usual weekend crowds, there's still plenty of opportunity to celebrate this Mexican holiday while the country stews over illegal immigration.
Recommended celebrating:
- Lazyday.com bar crawl (aren't they always worth it?) starts at Dixie's 7:30 pm.
- Cantina 1511 (East Blvd.), which was featured last year. Parking lot is roped off for Simplified (live entertainment), post-show DJ, giveaways every half-hour.
- La Paz (South End) Mexican Olympics, parking deck rooftop live band (Special Purpose), $3 Corona, 16 oz. Bud Light, $3.50 house margaritas, $4 Cuervo Gold shots
- Salsa's (6676 Carmel Rd) This irresistable little hideway in Carmel Commons shopping center will stay open late, offer a DJ, and well, has some of the best salsa I've eaten here. $12.99 Mexican beer buckets, $2.25 individuals, $2.99 Cuervo margaritas.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Knightly Therapy
Only Thirsty Thursdays provide me the incentive to traverse to Fort Mill for Charlotte Knights' games anymore; cheap beer trumps the mileage and political issues currently surrounding the team's land swap proposal to move to Center City.
On these special evenings, the $2 twelve ounce canned rotgut tastes a little better in contrast to the usual five spot draft. That'll get you a pair on this special evening, leaving a single to tip the nice lady from Band Boosters. For the record, I select the Pabst Blue Ribbon in lieu of Miller High Life or Natty Light.
The games have never been about wins or losses--I couldn't even begin to tell you a single player that's ever played here--it's the company I keep. Viewing games from the mezzanine area, the boys and I have scrutinized relationships, evaluated the legality of young female patrons, and measured our manhood in Seinfeld trivia.
Bring twenty bucks. Eight gets you through the door ($2 parking, $6 general admission) leaving the net proceeds available for the aforementioned Thursday home game offer.
That's the kind of deal worthy of a Crawl plug. Any other day, I don't wanna play. Get the Knights back to Charlotte.
***************
The surplus of bar crawls aren't usually newsworthy, but Lazyday.com's Golden Ticket event this Friday, April 28th, reminds me of the recent Willy Wonka remake and the American Idol receipt clutched in the fingers of a Hollywood-bound applicant.
A meager admission fee (free for ladies, $10 guys) waives cover charges at five downtown destinations mostly reserved for the college crowd (Dixie's, Buckhead, Grand Central, et al.) but since when did most of them charge cover anyway?
$3 SoCo's and lime and $2 Bud selections are the featured drink selections while revelers pull a ticket at each stop for various prizes highlighted with a Sony digital camera by evening's end.
Email RSVP's to info@lazyday.com.
***************
An upstairs beer at Connolly's recently afforded me the pleasure of meeting my friendly site rival Tonya Jameson of the Observer's "Paid to Party" feature. It was bound to happen; I'm surprised it took as long as it did.
Sporting her mohawk, this funky chick tirelessly works a slightly different beat, and I envy her ability to devote herself to Charlotte nightlife full-time. Instead, I'll hit the salt mines of the financial field tomorrow after wrapping up this blog at 11:30 pm.
We have discussed a cross-promotional effort in the near future, and explore an alternative point/counterpoint approach that meets our mutual interest.
I'd consider the mohawk, but I'll blame the widow's peak on my forehead as non-cooperative. Besides, it doesn't go very well with business casual.
Reach Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered.
On these special evenings, the $2 twelve ounce canned rotgut tastes a little better in contrast to the usual five spot draft. That'll get you a pair on this special evening, leaving a single to tip the nice lady from Band Boosters. For the record, I select the Pabst Blue Ribbon in lieu of Miller High Life or Natty Light.
The games have never been about wins or losses--I couldn't even begin to tell you a single player that's ever played here--it's the company I keep. Viewing games from the mezzanine area, the boys and I have scrutinized relationships, evaluated the legality of young female patrons, and measured our manhood in Seinfeld trivia.
Bring twenty bucks. Eight gets you through the door ($2 parking, $6 general admission) leaving the net proceeds available for the aforementioned Thursday home game offer.
That's the kind of deal worthy of a Crawl plug. Any other day, I don't wanna play. Get the Knights back to Charlotte.
***************
The surplus of bar crawls aren't usually newsworthy, but Lazyday.com's Golden Ticket event this Friday, April 28th, reminds me of the recent Willy Wonka remake and the American Idol receipt clutched in the fingers of a Hollywood-bound applicant.
A meager admission fee (free for ladies, $10 guys) waives cover charges at five downtown destinations mostly reserved for the college crowd (Dixie's, Buckhead, Grand Central, et al.) but since when did most of them charge cover anyway?
$3 SoCo's and lime and $2 Bud selections are the featured drink selections while revelers pull a ticket at each stop for various prizes highlighted with a Sony digital camera by evening's end.
Email RSVP's to info@lazyday.com.
***************
An upstairs beer at Connolly's recently afforded me the pleasure of meeting my friendly site rival Tonya Jameson of the Observer's "Paid to Party" feature. It was bound to happen; I'm surprised it took as long as it did.
Sporting her mohawk, this funky chick tirelessly works a slightly different beat, and I envy her ability to devote herself to Charlotte nightlife full-time. Instead, I'll hit the salt mines of the financial field tomorrow after wrapping up this blog at 11:30 pm.
We have discussed a cross-promotional effort in the near future, and explore an alternative point/counterpoint approach that meets our mutual interest.
I'd consider the mohawk, but I'll blame the widow's peak on my forehead as non-cooperative. Besides, it doesn't go very well with business casual.
Reach Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Lean Legs and YAM
The Best Third Friday of the Month Summer Happy Hour starts again at 6:00 pm on April 21st, courtesy of the Young Affiliates of the Mint's (YAM) rooftop access to the Mint Museum of Craft and Design at 220 N. Tryon downtown.
This fundraiser, a chapter of the organization's continuing philanthropy, attracts a scene similar to the picture at the left, and offers this blogger a shot at helping the reader decipher his crappy Dr. Seuss headline.
For twenty bucks, nonmembers are treated to unlimited alcohol (limited beer and wine) and local cuisine, while it lasts. The scenery, whether you appreciate a skyline, fine art, or tanned flesh is subject to the individual palate.
Membership, on the other hand, is a mere sixty dollars a year, offering discounted access to a slate of popular annual activities such as the Jazzy Ladies movie series on the Mint's front lawn (April 30) and the running of Derby Daze on May 6th.
For the uncivilized, this is probably not for you. But consider if it's worth cleaning up for participation in one of the city's largest organizations, already some five hundred strong.
Maybe then you'll see why I want to call it the Yummiest Adults in Mecklenburg.
Anybody have any better acronyms? Post your response.
Monday, April 10, 2006
CCA5, It's Good to Be Alive
Charlotte Center City Partners recently released its annual lineup for Center City Alive After Five, with confidence in a completion date for the Wachovia Plaza (2nd & Tryon) construction before the May 4th kickoff.
Timely work from the construction business? Two weeks ago, the entire grounds were erected in scaffolding, privacy walls, and construction debris. It'll take more than a Swiffer to get ready by early May.
As usual, the docket is littered with tribute acts like repeat performances from Slippery When Wet (Bon Jovi) and Zoso (Led Zeppelin). Other annual faves include The Swingin' Richards, The Voltage Brothers, and the Blue Dogs.
But do we really listen to any of them anyway? That fantastic backdrop of live music, no matter who it is, falls on deaf ears when getting a gander at the season's first crop of sundresses.
Admission is free, and beverages, well, aren't.
********************
After attending my first and only Checkers' game at the conclusion of the regular season, a 3-2 overtime win over the Columbia Inferno, the Arena's equivalent of Thirsty Thursday was nearly a bait-and-switch worthy of a car dealer promotion.
You see, not all the beers are $2.00; one must have happened upon the club section at the point of entry to be directed to the long lines for discounted Coors Light. It took the first $6.75 Bud purchase to adapt to the learning curve, only to have the club bar then "run out" after enduring a fifteen minute wait.
A problem that's rectified with simple signage, staffing, and service. Offer me a comparable alternative while standing awkwardly at the front; I'll consider myself a happy customer and rave about it in a nightlife column.
The Arena is gorgeous. So is the Checkmates' dance squad, braving that slippery floor during intermissions. But mid-week minor league sports rely heavily on you and me and our disposable income to enjoy cocktails after work with friends.
Let's get it right next year. I promise to go to more games.
********************
Sunday's flirt with warmer days to come peeled me away from my annual obsession with Masters' coverage. Answering the call of Lake Norman, a pair of cargo shorts and flip-flops barely exceeded comfortable in the chilly shade, but a handful of girly Blue Moon beers (with an orange slice, of course) at the Rusty Rudder trumped golf on TV any day.
The tiki bar is open, signaling a flare for the beginning of lake season, and as usual, I am grateful for the friends who invite me up.
The best boat ride ever? Any one that I didn't pay for.
********************
Speaking of the lake, Queen's Landing in Mooresville is the latest to experiment with a dueling pianos bar, moving in on the old Sarangoni's restaurant. Dubbed Jokers, the grand opening is 9 pm on April 22nd.
Charlotte's feeble run at it in the past (Rum Runners, Sam's Uptune Saloon) was a predictable demise for this successful franchise many have experienced at Crocodile Rocks in Myrtle Beach. The difference, however, is that a revolving tourist crowd never tires of the repeated performances of "Sweet Caroline" and "Piano Man." Ugh, one grueling night after night.
I've got to admit, however, I never balk at the interactive version of Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World," complete with an accelerating tempo and graphic hand gestures not fit to reproduce in this column.
But to the home crowd, the repeat business will dwindle, especially when subjected to the nightly college fight song contest, where the talent duo will each pocket several hundred dollars in tips just to have rival fans shut them up.
It's brilliant. It's also tired. But I'm glad to see 'em again.
Reach Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered.
Timely work from the construction business? Two weeks ago, the entire grounds were erected in scaffolding, privacy walls, and construction debris. It'll take more than a Swiffer to get ready by early May.
As usual, the docket is littered with tribute acts like repeat performances from Slippery When Wet (Bon Jovi) and Zoso (Led Zeppelin). Other annual faves include The Swingin' Richards, The Voltage Brothers, and the Blue Dogs.
But do we really listen to any of them anyway? That fantastic backdrop of live music, no matter who it is, falls on deaf ears when getting a gander at the season's first crop of sundresses.
Admission is free, and beverages, well, aren't.
********************
After attending my first and only Checkers' game at the conclusion of the regular season, a 3-2 overtime win over the Columbia Inferno, the Arena's equivalent of Thirsty Thursday was nearly a bait-and-switch worthy of a car dealer promotion.
You see, not all the beers are $2.00; one must have happened upon the club section at the point of entry to be directed to the long lines for discounted Coors Light. It took the first $6.75 Bud purchase to adapt to the learning curve, only to have the club bar then "run out" after enduring a fifteen minute wait.
A problem that's rectified with simple signage, staffing, and service. Offer me a comparable alternative while standing awkwardly at the front; I'll consider myself a happy customer and rave about it in a nightlife column.
The Arena is gorgeous. So is the Checkmates' dance squad, braving that slippery floor during intermissions. But mid-week minor league sports rely heavily on you and me and our disposable income to enjoy cocktails after work with friends.
Let's get it right next year. I promise to go to more games.
********************
Sunday's flirt with warmer days to come peeled me away from my annual obsession with Masters' coverage. Answering the call of Lake Norman, a pair of cargo shorts and flip-flops barely exceeded comfortable in the chilly shade, but a handful of girly Blue Moon beers (with an orange slice, of course) at the Rusty Rudder trumped golf on TV any day.
The tiki bar is open, signaling a flare for the beginning of lake season, and as usual, I am grateful for the friends who invite me up.
The best boat ride ever? Any one that I didn't pay for.
********************
Speaking of the lake, Queen's Landing in Mooresville is the latest to experiment with a dueling pianos bar, moving in on the old Sarangoni's restaurant. Dubbed Jokers, the grand opening is 9 pm on April 22nd.
Charlotte's feeble run at it in the past (Rum Runners, Sam's Uptune Saloon) was a predictable demise for this successful franchise many have experienced at Crocodile Rocks in Myrtle Beach. The difference, however, is that a revolving tourist crowd never tires of the repeated performances of "Sweet Caroline" and "Piano Man." Ugh, one grueling night after night.
I've got to admit, however, I never balk at the interactive version of Three Dog Night's "Joy to the World," complete with an accelerating tempo and graphic hand gestures not fit to reproduce in this column.
But to the home crowd, the repeat business will dwindle, especially when subjected to the nightly college fight song contest, where the talent duo will each pocket several hundred dollars in tips just to have rival fans shut them up.
It's brilliant. It's also tired. But I'm glad to see 'em again.
Reach Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. All emails will be answered.
Monday, April 03, 2006
April Stools
Saturday's Final Four blah-fest, unless you're a Gator or a Bruin, made me grateful for gold-rimmed goblets of Stella Artois at Stool Pigeons; I have an affectionate appreciation for the bar that served as my inaugural column three years ago.
Watching the games sequentially, a similar feat I accomplished in January for the NFL divisional playoffs, was ushered along by the nine Stella's, also poured sequentially.
Stoolies' has maintained a rather consistent approach, carefully eluding any association as a sports bar, but finds it difficult to delineate when surrounded by televisions carrying all the major sports packages. The menu is still a satisfactory selection of upscale bar food, having added interesting treats like sliders, pork shanks, and PBR chili.
They even walk out a dessert tray now. Seriously.
Not even the wind from the old Rhino Club spade fans could cool off the unexpected frustration of suffering through those two boring blowouts.
But for the record, I'll take UCLA tonight and the points.
***************
A full-feature Cans review, after the Observer's Tonya Jameson's P2P feature on Friday and my twenty minute wait in line Saturday night, will take a raincheck. Why?
The impending grand opening (Thursday night...Napoleon Dynamite's "Pedro" is back for another shameless cameo) notwithstanding, your patronage has made it nearly impossible to spend quality time with the staff thanks to an overwhelming early attendance.
Dragging my notebook inside, to be welcomed by some seven or eight hundred of you (or more?) was of little use when the credit card machines crashed, and the staff floundered to move product with cash only.
Instead, my fellow comrades ran interference and scribbled furiously on my pad the following:
"Cans girls love to show their cans!" An appropriate exclamation, but I saw none.
"I am disappointed by the lack of actual cans! My tongue longs for real -------. You would think a bar called Cans would satisfy!" Uh, shall we introduce her to the first gal?
"Please make sure you note that this place bites! It took 25 minutes to even get noticed at the bar then [sic] to get served!" Well, should she have showed her cans?
And on the last page, ironically, a poor sketch of a U. of Florida Gator. (I am a Florida State graduate. But yes, I am envious tonight. I lost my bet.)
***************
Folks who have missed their bangers & mash at Ri-Ra need only wait until approximately Sunday, April 16th, for the completion of the kitchen renovation. In the meantime, a catered menu of sandwiches and boxed salads fills in nicely.
Just add a Guinness to your order,slurp it with a spoon, and complete the soup-n-sandwich combo.
***************
Look for me at the finish line of the 10k at the Charlotte Racefest on Saturday morning, April 8th; presumably, I will be with a group huddled around a cooler. We've got to pull for one of our girls.
I abandoned this destructive cardiovascular activity in high school, and with good reason. I had a hard enough time filling out timely, and didn't need running to hinder my late pubescence on my girly little frame. Those skeletons that cross the line early really creep me out, anyway.
Email Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com.
Watching the games sequentially, a similar feat I accomplished in January for the NFL divisional playoffs, was ushered along by the nine Stella's, also poured sequentially.
Stoolies' has maintained a rather consistent approach, carefully eluding any association as a sports bar, but finds it difficult to delineate when surrounded by televisions carrying all the major sports packages. The menu is still a satisfactory selection of upscale bar food, having added interesting treats like sliders, pork shanks, and PBR chili.
They even walk out a dessert tray now. Seriously.
Not even the wind from the old Rhino Club spade fans could cool off the unexpected frustration of suffering through those two boring blowouts.
But for the record, I'll take UCLA tonight and the points.
***************
A full-feature Cans review, after the Observer's Tonya Jameson's P2P feature on Friday and my twenty minute wait in line Saturday night, will take a raincheck. Why?
The impending grand opening (Thursday night...Napoleon Dynamite's "Pedro" is back for another shameless cameo) notwithstanding, your patronage has made it nearly impossible to spend quality time with the staff thanks to an overwhelming early attendance.
Dragging my notebook inside, to be welcomed by some seven or eight hundred of you (or more?) was of little use when the credit card machines crashed, and the staff floundered to move product with cash only.
Instead, my fellow comrades ran interference and scribbled furiously on my pad the following:
"Cans girls love to show their cans!" An appropriate exclamation, but I saw none.
"I am disappointed by the lack of actual cans! My tongue longs for real -------. You would think a bar called Cans would satisfy!" Uh, shall we introduce her to the first gal?
"Please make sure you note that this place bites! It took 25 minutes to even get noticed at the bar then [sic] to get served!" Well, should she have showed her cans?
And on the last page, ironically, a poor sketch of a U. of Florida Gator. (I am a Florida State graduate. But yes, I am envious tonight. I lost my bet.)
***************
Folks who have missed their bangers & mash at Ri-Ra need only wait until approximately Sunday, April 16th, for the completion of the kitchen renovation. In the meantime, a catered menu of sandwiches and boxed salads fills in nicely.
Just add a Guinness to your order,slurp it with a spoon, and complete the soup-n-sandwich combo.
***************
Look for me at the finish line of the 10k at the Charlotte Racefest on Saturday morning, April 8th; presumably, I will be with a group huddled around a cooler. We've got to pull for one of our girls.
I abandoned this destructive cardiovascular activity in high school, and with good reason. I had a hard enough time filling out timely, and didn't need running to hinder my late pubescence on my girly little frame. Those skeletons that cross the line early really creep me out, anyway.
Email Bryan at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Will Peter Piper Pick a Pickler?
The Urban Crawl certainly does not traverse the streets every night, as the allure of Tuesday's American Idol has--bear with me--captured my attention.
Typically, I'm good for the awful auditions that smatter us with freak shows and unnecessary drama ("You watch, America! American Idol can kiss my *&#!") as the dearly departed exit the premises. But something special, whether it's local "talent" (more on that later) or salty-haired blues singers that look like their back hurts when they sing, has me completely immersed in an office pool and a Wednesday morning water cooler conversation.
Allow me to step aside from the nightlife feature to offer my take on the top ten, and for entertainment purposes only, a shot at handicapping the field. As of the time of this posting, the 3/28 show has concluded for voting.
Bucky Covington (25,000:1) There's simply no way this bottom-feeder, with limited vocal ability, will escape the cut in the next week or two. His silly mike toss, the mid-song squat that looks like he passed uncomfortable gas, and a country music pigeonhole performance wouldn't even be the best singer on a Saturday night at the Yellow Rose.
Lisa Tucker (10,000:1) Who is she? Resembling wallpaper, we seem to forget her weekly performance, and her age (16) pushes the maturity barrier for the demands of an Idol winner. A lack of stage presence doesn't help, and her recent rendition of "Because of You" by Kelly Clarkson should do her in on whatever week Bucky doesn't go.
Ace Young (5,000:1) Already having been threatened to be sent home in the bottom three, his smoldering good looks simply do not mask his cheesy song-concluding icy stares (enough of that, already) and poor song selections. Although he sits in the top ten, the production crew probably offered a gentle nudge to the judges to consider his contribution to the ratings.
Elliott Yamin (750:1) Until last week's departure of Chicken Little, he's the least attractive contestant, with slight improvement after losing the leprechaun beard. The military-grade haircut and a train wreck of teeth won't overcome his decent lyrical ability, and he needs to overcome the hip-hop delivery his body conveys despite a different song theme.
Kellie Pickler (250:1) America's sweetheart survives even this long only on her ditsy demeanor and blonde locks, because her wooden delivery and basic country ability couldn't even win in Charlotte's "Gimme the Mike!" contest on WSOC-TV last year. Also, she's the target subject of www.votefortheworst.com, a website that mocks a contestant and encourages her vote. It didn't work long for Kevin Covais, but he wasn't hot like her, so she might crack the top five.
Taylor Hicks (30:1) The last five candidates are a tight race of talent, and will hopefully be the remaining five in weeks to come. Taylor is a professional recording artist, and perhaps his snowy hair already exhibits the signs of a man on the road. Two weeks of unimpressive performances has his star falling rapidly, and honestly, although you enjoy his stage antics, do you want a blues artist clutching the trophy?
Mandisa (20:1) The pool's second-best voice has almost rendered her weight, a subject of Simon's ridicule, as moot. But the hyprocisy of Hollywood, and the viewers of the show, probably won't elect this diva despite the uncanny victory of Ruben Studdard over Clay Aiken in season two.
Paris Bennett (10:1) This sparky little fireplug, a 17 year old from Georgia, consistently delivers a top-notch performance, and arguably occupies the spot formerly held by Taylor. Astonishing diversity in her performances, and perhaps the best stage presence of the bunch, might make her the dark horse. Contrary to Lisa Taylor, this teen exudes the confidence of a star.
Katharine McPhee/Chris Daughtry (5:1) Too close to call, Katharine's effortless performances (I mean, she did Christina Aguilera!) and Chris' rocker bad boy shtick leave their audiences shrieking. Katharine doesn't have quite the force of Chris' assembly of past weeks' blowouts, but I think she's quietly positioning herself to emulate Kelly Clarkson like Simon once mentioned. Selfishly, she's also the subject of my secret crush, but I am also a rocker by trade. I'll take either.
Do you agree? Post a reply, or email me at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com. Back to the beers next time.
Monday, March 13, 2006
It's Humane Nature
The collegiate atmosphere of For a measly five bucks, the booze lovers and the boxer lovers will enjoy $2 Coors Lights, $3 Estrella wines, and a complimentary appetizer buffet.
Even my five year old critter, a lab mix, would pass on a cheap Coors Light (I trained him well), but the event is simply too beneficial for the homeless stray to pass up. Consider the organization’s commitment to spurning euthanasia, and how your donation goes a long way to an extra bowl of food or a low-cost vaccine to save a lil’ fella.
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Having spent a good part of the last two weeks in the Wilmington/Wrightsville Beach area for the day job, one can’t help but observe the magnification of the distinct coed ratio very much in favor of the single male.
Perhaps the salty air and a little more sun enhances a girl who is likely either a UNCW student or a budding actress on a crappy WB drama, but gentlemen, it is a gold mine. Only Charleston reigns supreme.
Ladies, spare me the endless drivel of how hard it is to meet a man in
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Saturday’s celebration of St. Patrick’s Day pits the
Event
Charlotte Goes Green Festival v. St. Pat's in Five Points (Columbia, SC)
Tenth year v. Twenty-fourth, respectively
Did You Know?
1st year parade consisted of one Irish band with a bagpiper v. Inaugural rainout
Estimated Attendance
30,000 v. 30,000
Cost
Free v. $10
Musical LineupRed Herring Irish Band, Rince Na H'Eireann, Irongrass v. Tracy Lawrence, Saliva, Seven Mary Three
DistanceFuture light rail ride away v. Oh, about a hundred miles
FAQ's
What is the price equivalent of a beer that costs an arm, and a leg? v. What is this lousy mustard-based barbecue sauce?
Seen
A gluttony of boot-cut jeans and striped shirts (see picture above) v. Beer guts that don't discriminate by gender
Heard
"Our striped shirts are gonna score us some chicks!" v. "I'm still living with my parents."
Having attended both festivals over the last decade, although satisfying the palate for both cultures alike, the nod goes to Columbia. Its battle-tested tenure offers both an advantage for the contemporary music fan that's worth the nominal entry fee. Budget-conscious attendees will appreciate the small business owner doling out cans of beer for a couple of singles, while munching on a similarly-priced gyro.
The short trip, as well as reasonable hotel pricing, is worth the quick overnight getaway. While paling in comparison to Savannah's mammoth effort, our friends to the south offer an excellent alternative to our annual downtown option, probably just a few years away from matching the bet.
My choice this year? The room's already booked.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
New Year's Reprieve
January 3, 2006’s “New Year’s Peeve” blog entry, a full feature devoted to the debacle at South End Brewery’s annual year-end celebration, generated the most email response in my three year stint with Charlotte.com. One hundred percent of the reader replies agreed with my position, echoing the opinion that year nine was a year to forget.Certainly, not all revelers were miserable, but the lack of any dissenting vote was a good indicator that many investors in the evening were not paid a fair sum of party consideration in return.
General manager Steve Vocke, a five year veteran of the restaurant and microbrewery chain, recently agreed to a brief interview to set the record straight. No, we are not getting refunds, but his sincerity was genuine and year ten has a plan of action set to avoid any repeat of this performance.
Questions and answers have been edited for brevity and clarity.
What went wrong?
It was like a perfect storm of people. Probably forty percent of our clientele were
How did they know about this event? Did your
Not a single bit. Not at all. I have no idea how they [
How many tickets did you sell?
925. Previous years it’s been 750. We got to 750 on Thursday before New Year’s and I said ‘Alright, we gotta figure something out. We’ve got a tent, and nine hundred would be perfect.’ And that was our goal. We got to 925 when people showed up without tickets and said they were with five other friends who already had tickets. What killed us was the overflow of people coming in that said they had reservations and we didn’t have any record of them at all.
What is the capacity of South End Brewery?
900 without tables. We were within our fire marshal occupancy. Total at the end of the night was right under 1100 [tent occupancy included].
When you co-sponsor an event such as this one with promoter John Lineberger, who is in charge?
John and myself. I take full responsibility for the night. John doesn’t control the staff whatsoever. All he does is emails and promotion. He has a huge database and was in touch with the Charlotte Sports Connection. We had no idea this party was going to be this big.
Was anything different in this year’s organization of the event that was different from years before?
Absolutely not. John and I have worked together for five years. I’ve only had one complaint in five years; one woman said we didn’t have closed captioning on the TV and she was deaf.
Were there any complaints that evening this year?
Yes. We dealt with one person on her way out and I gave her my card and we got everything straightened out. She was very appreciative of the call.
Were there any reported problems with staffing?
We had a hard time getting the bar stocked up. If I knew this was going to be a thousand person party, I would have added another bar, but honestly, I don’t know where I would have put it at that point. We’ve never had to deal with a crowd that size before.
Did you finally turn people away at the door?
Yes. There was one point early in the night, around
Do you think the drink lines were too long?
Honestly though, you only want to serve so many drinks. I don’t mean that financially, but from a safety standpoint. Anytime you have an open bar situation, and people are going to drink as much as they want to, people get sick too early. To a point, you have to have lines. You’ve got to be responsible. You give people carte blanche ability to drink, and it’s dangerous.
Let’s talk about how you plan to prepare for next year. Are there any changes planned for admission?
We’ve already established an opportunity for people to purchase their tickets online. The phone calls, the calling to order your tickets, people saying they bought tickets and they didn’t buy tickets, that’s eliminated. People will print their confirmation and show it to us.
Restroom facilities?
We will add port-o-potties but I don’t know the exact location where it’s going to be. I want to make sure it’s convenient enough for everybody to get to but it doesn’t become a stinkin’ mess. We’re going to put up a heated double tent for the CIAA’s and experiment there.
Do you plan to sell a similar number of tickets?
Not at all. If we do a double tent we’ll consider 900. We might have seven bars and 18 bartenders. We’ll convert the entire pizza bar to serve drinks. Additionally, we might hand out some beers to people that might have to wait in line. We’re not going to do wristbands since we’re checking ID’s at the door.
Monday, February 20, 2006
"Cans"-Do Attitude
I've finally obtained the press release for the long-awaited opening of Cans Bar and Canteen in the refurbished Cotton Mills building in the Fourth Ward. Construction delays disabled their previous attempt at serving the public by January.Although subject to change, keep an eye on this very column for any updates to a soft start on Wednesday, March 15th, and a formal dog and pony show on Thursday, April 6th.
Promising "old-school, laid back fun," expect an array of eighties and nineties music nostalgia (please spare us anything already accomplished at Breakfast Club), tabletop video games (you bring Galaga, you have me at hello), and college grub like mac-n-cheese and Spaghetti-O's.
Since their name emits no irony, the signature item is predictably their variety of canned beers, and this location will also be the first of its kind to brew its own. Compared to glass, canned beer usually has all the appeal of drinking out of a clay pot, but I'm intrigued to sample a fresh brew of their Light, Dark, Amber, or Belgian White.
A formal review will be forthcoming.
High scores:
Square footage: 12,000 (two heated floors and a rooftop deck)
Canned beers: Over 50
Ceilings: 17 feet (loft-style)
Location: #3 (Chicago, Milwaukee)
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Six years later and some six hundred strong, the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation's "Guys and Dolls Bachelor/Bachelorette Auction" was a smashing success, having raised at least six figures at press time.
Saturday night's event, hosted by the downtown Hilton, was dripping in Charlotte's finest talent, who paid as much as $85 each for unlimited booze and buffet. Fueled by the engaging Matt Harris and Ramona Holloway, WLNK's afternoon drive-time duo, the marathon event probably went about an hour past its prime.
Forty-six year old Charlotte firefighter Jim Dedmon played to about half a late crowd, but still amassed an impressive $1200 offer while wearing his complete gear.
Top bids were acquired by Fox Charlotte's Kelli Bartik ($3100) and Dean Pawlowski ($4000), a Metlife Auto & Home Project Specialist, who didn't hurt his cause by shedding a few layers of his tux at Ramona's gentle prodding. Or, perhaps it was the round trip to LAX to sit on the set of Grey's Anatomy (lead actress Ellen Pompeo is his sister).
Kelli went toe-to-toe by offering a guest spot on her Fox Got Game sports show, but it might have also been Matt's obsession with her derriere.
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Speaking of charity, the Fifth Annual "Beads for Needs" Mardi Gras celebration will be held at B of A's Founders Hall this Thursday, February 23rd at 6 p.m. Proceeds will benefit First Tee of Charlotte and the New Orleans Tourism Rebirth Fund.
Their website offers no explanation just what the $25 ticket ($30 at the door) guarantees the buyer other than admission, but I have some ideas just what they might not be telling you....
- 2006 Bobcats' playoff tickets (please tell me you get the joke)
- All-you-can-eat corn dogs!
- Busch Light Ultra out the wazoo
- A fractional timeshare in Gastonia
- Light rail tokens, but in Baltimore
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Guys, Dolls, 'n Balls
With the weekend's festivities bookended by the Sports Connection's Guys & Dolls bachelor/bachelorette auction and the 5th Annual Bartender's Ball, my inability to score media passes so far has me considering minting my own cash.
Respectively, admission fees of $75 and $60 (in advance; any delinquency at the door will require an additional sacrifice of your pinky finger) are all-inclusive. But last time I pursued the flat-fee arrangement, an embattled South End Brewery was disgraced with a New Year's fallout that will be the subject of a future rebuttal piece.
The events are semi-formal. Gratefully, fellow Charlotte socialites generally adhere to the attire requirement, as opposed to some women in the workplace who now consider sweatpants and no make-up as business casual. If you elect to attempt a creative black tie, please do us a favor and seek anything other than a tuxedo t-shirt, anything Hawaiian, or anything previously worn by a rap artist. We get it, funny guy.
Enjoy the 35,000 square feet of party space before the Merchandise Mart completes its sale to the University Park Baptist Church in 2008. Their members will probably frown on this stuff, you know.
For additional information, contact:
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Thursday, February 16th, marks the grand opening of The Attic, the latest venture from the boys of Connolly's, Madison's, Tyber Creek--you get the idea.
Perched above Brick and Barrel at Tryon & 5th, its intimate setting is basked in Old World decor, five HD televisions, with subtle lighting to accentuate yet another investment in an ol' fashioned drinking establishment.
While wine and liquor selections are expected, owner Kevin Devin wants me to emphasize it's "all about the beer and shots." A full review will be forthcoming.
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Is anyone aware that the 2006 Guinness Toast is this Friday, February 17th? I've seen exactly zero press, and a visit to Guinness' website says nary a thing, laddy.
The marketing move is simply brilliant. It's the drinking equivalent of a Hallmark holiday invention (uh, Valentine's Day?) hawking the beverage more than anyone else, for that one day a year. Why not triple, or quadruple it up during the fiscal year?
Because no one cares about it anymore. Remember when you raised a glass and filled out that slip of paper with a fake name to help authenticate the World Record? Who counted all those things, anyway?
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Buried in my notebook are eight unused passes good for free weekend admission at Coyote Ugly Saloon. I'll pair them up into four groups; the first four to email me their mailing address with "Coyote Ugly passes" in the subject line can have a set.
Please, no repeat offenders and this writer makes no promise they're still legal tender. But hey, they don't cost you nuthin'.
Is the Guinness pour an overrated tradition? Bryan thinks so. Tired of waiting for ten minutes to get your stout? Post your replies. Email him at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com and join his new friends list at www.myspace.com/brneil.
Respectively, admission fees of $75 and $60 (in advance; any delinquency at the door will require an additional sacrifice of your pinky finger) are all-inclusive. But last time I pursued the flat-fee arrangement, an embattled South End Brewery was disgraced with a New Year's fallout that will be the subject of a future rebuttal piece.
The events are semi-formal. Gratefully, fellow Charlotte socialites generally adhere to the attire requirement, as opposed to some women in the workplace who now consider sweatpants and no make-up as business casual. If you elect to attempt a creative black tie, please do us a favor and seek anything other than a tuxedo t-shirt, anything Hawaiian, or anything previously worn by a rap artist. We get it, funny guy.
Enjoy the 35,000 square feet of party space before the Merchandise Mart completes its sale to the University Park Baptist Church in 2008. Their members will probably frown on this stuff, you know.
For additional information, contact:
- Sabrina Watt with the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation at swatt@cff.org (B&B Auction tix), or
- Steve Caldwell at steve@elevatecharlotte.com (Ball). Tickets available at http://www.bandtastic.com
***************
Thursday, February 16th, marks the grand opening of The Attic, the latest venture from the boys of Connolly's, Madison's, Tyber Creek--you get the idea.
Perched above Brick and Barrel at Tryon & 5th, its intimate setting is basked in Old World decor, five HD televisions, with subtle lighting to accentuate yet another investment in an ol' fashioned drinking establishment.
While wine and liquor selections are expected, owner Kevin Devin wants me to emphasize it's "all about the beer and shots." A full review will be forthcoming.
***************
Is anyone aware that the 2006 Guinness Toast is this Friday, February 17th? I've seen exactly zero press, and a visit to Guinness' website says nary a thing, laddy.
The marketing move is simply brilliant. It's the drinking equivalent of a Hallmark holiday invention (uh, Valentine's Day?) hawking the beverage more than anyone else, for that one day a year. Why not triple, or quadruple it up during the fiscal year?
Because no one cares about it anymore. Remember when you raised a glass and filled out that slip of paper with a fake name to help authenticate the World Record? Who counted all those things, anyway?
***************
Buried in my notebook are eight unused passes good for free weekend admission at Coyote Ugly Saloon. I'll pair them up into four groups; the first four to email me their mailing address with "Coyote Ugly passes" in the subject line can have a set.
Please, no repeat offenders and this writer makes no promise they're still legal tender. But hey, they don't cost you nuthin'.
Is the Guinness pour an overrated tradition? Bryan thinks so. Tired of waiting for ten minutes to get your stout? Post your replies. Email him at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com and join his new friends list at www.myspace.com/brneil.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Urban Brawl
What’s with all the late-night violence anyway? A tragic shooting at Liquid Lounge, reported incidents at the Disco Rodeo on
Before you check your maturity at the door and elect to settle your differences in a bar, take a chill pill, watch Dr. Phil, and go say something nice about your enemy. Leave us out of it.
My bio references my crime-fighting after dark, but I am not omnipresent. Even Spiderman has to sleep every once in a while, you know.
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While we usually embrace tax season with all the affection of an annual prostate exam, it is awfully kind to this nightlife columnist. As an independent contractor of Charlotte.com, I have no expense account. Accordingly, my business expenses are tax-deductible.
A shoebox full of receipts indicates another busy year on the Crawl, with bar tabs accounting for—you guessed it—research. For the record, 2005’s total checks in at $2,909, and that’s just what I can document.
Doing the math:
$55.94. Average spent per week, which seems low.
727. Rough estimate of total drinks purchased, at average $4 each. (I’m a cheap date.)
$1,000.00? Undocumented behavior, like cash tabs, Panther games, out of town trips, etc.
$0. Amount I will deduct for parking, due to crappy record keeping, with many thanks to those Bobcat games eating in to our prior garage freedom.
3. Other deductible expenses associated with this gig (internet service provider, mileage, Observer subscription).
I’ll let my accountant take it from here…
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Capitalizing on brisk business thanks to word-of-mouth (and, perhaps, a prior plug on this page) Loft 1523’s Adam Whalen is experimenting with a weekend DJ to freshen up the audio.
Adam’s a savvy young
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Hoops & Dreams is putting up drywall, and appears to be heading in the right direction with an interest in moving the projection screen to the back room.
Admittedly, I’ve been a bit vocal over the current display, which is blasted right on the drywall and obscured by every patron that walks in front of it. During the daylight hours, it’s nearly invisible.
It’s a terrible setup, and a waste of an expensive piece of video equipment. A sports bar should know better, but then again, “H&D” is probably better suited for pre-flight drinks at
On a lighter note, does anyone else notice that their Lazyday.com weekly emailer has a lot of exclamation points!! !!! !! !
It's a journalistic sin surpassed only by TYPING IN ALL CAPITALS. It's the equivalent of yelling, and it's worthy of breaking the copywriter's fingers. I don't need you to exclaim that Tyber Creek has $2 Guinness pints on Tuesdays!! !! (But the management probably loves the enthusiasm.)
Sunday, January 29, 2006
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.
***************
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:
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.
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.
***************
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.
***************
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Boom! ABC MNF is over
ABC's 12/26/05 final edition of Monday Night Football, a meaningless game between the Patriots and the Jets, nevertheless provided a fitting backdrop for Wild Wing Cafe's (2132 Ayrsley Town Blvd., 980-297-7000, www.wildwingcafe.com) last weekly "MNF" gathering of the season.
Hosted by WRFX's Mr. Bill, southwest Charlotte's best wing bar doled out its usual assortment of "useless crap" punctuated by a halftime drawing for a weekend tryst for two at Snowshoe Ski Resort. The worst item? A "big ol' hairy" t-shirt screen print of a shirtless Panthers fan with The Fox's call sign carved in its back hair.
Useless? Mr. Bill was wrong. My dog found his new cotton chew toy quite useful.
With liquor license issues resolved by time (the tragic affiliation with a July 2004 DUI auto accident and underage serving), the $1.50 Coor's Light and $2.50 Trumer Pils specials were marred only by the $3.99 Garlic Cheese Toast ripoff they called an appetizer. One small half of a loaf, quartered, then dwarfed by the large basket, still survived the bill despite my complaint to management.
One dollar per bite. The cost equivalent of shrimp cocktail.
************************
Barring a Sunday collapse against Atlanta, possible home playoff games has The Sunset Club's (1820 South Blvd., 704-373-9900, www.sunsetclubcharlotte.com) Jeff Tomascak brimming with enthusiasm about his post-game destination option.
I've failed to schlep past a hundred yard radius of my tailgate to Angry Ale's but there is no comparison. Although not formally reviewed or visited, Sunset Club's private atmosphere, and Jeff's boastful email of "about 15 players, lots of cheerleaders, some Falcons, and lots of fun" after our Dec. 4 Atlanta home stand sounds like a superior option.
No word if ex-TopCat cheerleaders Renee Thomas and Angela Keathley made out in their bathroom.
Annual memberships from $350 to $2000 would explain the clientele, but members may entertain guests; get to know a few millionaires.
The Sunset Club is located below Tutto Mondo and the Pewter Rose in the South End.
Hosted by WRFX's Mr. Bill, southwest Charlotte's best wing bar doled out its usual assortment of "useless crap" punctuated by a halftime drawing for a weekend tryst for two at Snowshoe Ski Resort. The worst item? A "big ol' hairy" t-shirt screen print of a shirtless Panthers fan with The Fox's call sign carved in its back hair.
Useless? Mr. Bill was wrong. My dog found his new cotton chew toy quite useful.
With liquor license issues resolved by time (the tragic affiliation with a July 2004 DUI auto accident and underage serving), the $1.50 Coor's Light and $2.50 Trumer Pils specials were marred only by the $3.99 Garlic Cheese Toast ripoff they called an appetizer. One small half of a loaf, quartered, then dwarfed by the large basket, still survived the bill despite my complaint to management.
One dollar per bite. The cost equivalent of shrimp cocktail.
************************
Barring a Sunday collapse against Atlanta, possible home playoff games has The Sunset Club's (1820 South Blvd., 704-373-9900, www.sunsetclubcharlotte.com) Jeff Tomascak brimming with enthusiasm about his post-game destination option.
I've failed to schlep past a hundred yard radius of my tailgate to Angry Ale's but there is no comparison. Although not formally reviewed or visited, Sunset Club's private atmosphere, and Jeff's boastful email of "about 15 players, lots of cheerleaders, some Falcons, and lots of fun" after our Dec. 4 Atlanta home stand sounds like a superior option.
No word if ex-TopCat cheerleaders Renee Thomas and Angela Keathley made out in their bathroom.
Annual memberships from $350 to $2000 would explain the clientele, but members may entertain guests; get to know a few millionaires.
The Sunset Club is located below Tutto Mondo and the Pewter Rose in the South End.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Crawl Tales
May I offer a preemptive apology for exclusively driving the blog the last few months, explained in the most recent review of The Forum at Sixth and College. As it turns out, one of my friends complained he couldn't read it because his employer's filter prevents access to bulletin boards and the like.
That does it. Back to the streets for new stuff...
Some observations while tipping one back here and there:
That does it. Back to the streets for new stuff...
Some observations while tipping one back here and there:
- Speaking of The Forum (see full review on the website), has anyone gone to Bar or Have a Nice Day lately? Just curious, considering their tourist appeal. I bet I get zero responses to this blog for this answer. Last time I was in Bar, there was an electric bull. 'Nuff said.
- Fox & Hound on a Tuesday? Yes. $2.50 pints. A relative steal in the high rises.
- I may be in awe of the composite bar, but Zink American had me at hello with its happy hour crowd, and I just want to make sure the masses aren't dwindling after a couple of fly-bys lately. Remember: They are a Harper's affair, so do not miss a chance to eat from the spiral tower of seasoned, skinny french fries.
- I caught John Dungan and Mike Crowley at Connollys on 5th after nearly avoiding an unnecessary Irish scuffle, enjoying their acoustic cover and an interactive crowd. It goes to show that one girl patron, in a good pair of jeans, can work an entire floor. Check John out at www.johndungan.com. How can you resist a chrome-dome head clad in a Family Dollar t-shirt?
- Caught a Panthers game at Picasso's yet? I didn't update the sports bar listings this fall, but my first-ever game there solidifies its usual position atop the standings as the best sports bar in the city.
- Where's the best New Year's party? Rumor has it that it's moved to the Westin, for KISS 95.1's "Kiss in the New Year," now $89 per person in advance. For that amount, I can buy everyone at the house party I will attend one drink, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Tutto Go-Go
It has not been often that I've held tribal council at the end of the week at Tutto Mondo (1820 South Blvd., 704-332-5142, www.tuttomondo.net) but a refreshing visit amongst friends reminded me of why it was overdue.
Safely hidden upstairs next to the Pewter Rose in the South End, I featured it way back on March 17, 2004 paying homage to its interior design, low-key attitude, and word of mouth advertising. Shoot, they even pay tribute to my column with a link on their website.
A year and a half has expanded on its theme not only with a full week of entertainment, but its clientele. 9:30 DJ scheduling, with a very complicated array of assignments depending on the numbered week each month, still rounds up the urban professionals and has added a significant homosexual base, as well.
I have mixed feelings about the attention bestowed on me in this setting; I'm unquestionably straight as an arrow but appreciate the compliments, I guess. It must be my athletic, lean physique and crunchy short hair that garnered the occasional double-take. Much appreciated.
On this "True Blue" Friday, it was that guy smitty at the turntables, who specialized in classic house spins while 1/2 price appetizers and 1/2 price Cruvinet wines were served from 6-9. Weekenders will appreciate the $5 vodkas and Red Bulls and $5.50 Cosmos on Sweet Saturdays, and a nightly admission completely devoid of a cover charge.
But almost forgotten was its dark, moody setting stocked with deep loft-style furniture, underneath the twinkle of the holiday lighting. Other than a new phone number, they've kept a good thing going.
*****************************
Has anyone else been "Observing"... have things tapered off at Town (710 West Trade, 704-379-3555, www.dineattown.com)? It might be an overstatement, but I've caught a late week stop there a few times lately to a lot more empty seats than usual.
If I'm right, then it proves my point that the nearby Johnson & Wales culinary school, although stacked with cooking talent, is still just a bunch of broke students. College kids = cheap booze, and adjacent nightlife better still suck in the dollars from somewhere else.
*****************************
Cans Bar and Canteen (Graham & 5th, www.cansbar.com), originally slated for a January opening, looks busy inside while renovating this two-story development in the Cotton Mills.
It specializes in canned beer offerings, along with premium bottled selections and liquor, while incorporating a retroactive 80's theme replete with old video games and a jukebox.
Funny that it specializes in throwback while its logo and and exterior signage would indicate a futuristic appeal. If mullets are welcome, than I don't want to be.
But come to think of it, I believe there are some area bars that specialize in cans of beer...in Rock Hill.
*****************************
I was an unintended recipient of one of the emails circulated over the past two weeks accusing Menage owner Stefan Latorre of racial discrimination, an investigation I don't care to pursue.
However, I am curious if anyone has experienced this elsewhere around town, and please don't name names, just examples. Our blossoming cultural diversity probably makes this inevitable, as we learn to expand our tolerances. Feel free to email me at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com.
Safely hidden upstairs next to the Pewter Rose in the South End, I featured it way back on March 17, 2004 paying homage to its interior design, low-key attitude, and word of mouth advertising. Shoot, they even pay tribute to my column with a link on their website.
A year and a half has expanded on its theme not only with a full week of entertainment, but its clientele. 9:30 DJ scheduling, with a very complicated array of assignments depending on the numbered week each month, still rounds up the urban professionals and has added a significant homosexual base, as well.
I have mixed feelings about the attention bestowed on me in this setting; I'm unquestionably straight as an arrow but appreciate the compliments, I guess. It must be my athletic, lean physique and crunchy short hair that garnered the occasional double-take. Much appreciated.
On this "True Blue" Friday, it was that guy smitty at the turntables, who specialized in classic house spins while 1/2 price appetizers and 1/2 price Cruvinet wines were served from 6-9. Weekenders will appreciate the $5 vodkas and Red Bulls and $5.50 Cosmos on Sweet Saturdays, and a nightly admission completely devoid of a cover charge.
But almost forgotten was its dark, moody setting stocked with deep loft-style furniture, underneath the twinkle of the holiday lighting. Other than a new phone number, they've kept a good thing going.
*****************************
Has anyone else been "Observing"... have things tapered off at Town (710 West Trade, 704-379-3555, www.dineattown.com)? It might be an overstatement, but I've caught a late week stop there a few times lately to a lot more empty seats than usual.
If I'm right, then it proves my point that the nearby Johnson & Wales culinary school, although stacked with cooking talent, is still just a bunch of broke students. College kids = cheap booze, and adjacent nightlife better still suck in the dollars from somewhere else.
*****************************
Cans Bar and Canteen (Graham & 5th, www.cansbar.com), originally slated for a January opening, looks busy inside while renovating this two-story development in the Cotton Mills.
It specializes in canned beer offerings, along with premium bottled selections and liquor, while incorporating a retroactive 80's theme replete with old video games and a jukebox.
Funny that it specializes in throwback while its logo and and exterior signage would indicate a futuristic appeal. If mullets are welcome, than I don't want to be.
But come to think of it, I believe there are some area bars that specialize in cans of beer...in Rock Hill.
*****************************
I was an unintended recipient of one of the emails circulated over the past two weeks accusing Menage owner Stefan Latorre of racial discrimination, an investigation I don't care to pursue.
However, I am curious if anyone has experienced this elsewhere around town, and please don't name names, just examples. Our blossoming cultural diversity probably makes this inevitable, as we learn to expand our tolerances. Feel free to email me at charlottenightlife@hotmail.com.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Season's Best
Clutching a red rubber wristband and my new clickety ballpoint pen, these tokens are all that’s left of my $30 investment for one of the year’s first annual downtown galas, the Red Hot Turkey Trot benefiting the American Red Cross this past Tuesday, November 22nd.
On a brisk evening where I even score a free parking spot, walking to the Wachovia Atrium is becoming a tradition, considering a plethora of summer events and copycat parties following the same recipe of 1) mix in a few dozen dollars of your own cash, 2) drink unlimited sponsor beer & wine, and 3) enjoy adult contemporary band. 4) Repeat.
It works. On this evening, where Toys for Tots and 2nd String Santa still beckon me to whip out my annual Christmas tie over the next couple of weeks, an estimated thousand patrons or so deck the halls for the good cause.
Frankly, if I would show up on time I would get my money’s worth, before the hordes deplete the available buffet and it would also give me time to slug back a few more complimentary Buds.
The Atrium events, or any downtown “festival” for that matter, are a textbook case of the dating scene, admittedly attracting the hottest clientele crowd in
“But all the good guys are married or gay,” observes a fellow friend Jen, who apparently was oblivious to the male gene pool available. I mean, is she aware of our adverse ratio?
The chilly air, the 40 foot lit tree, and ceiling ornaments kick off the holiday season in grand fashion, while I watch the band Liquid Pleasure’s dance floor flip from “Gold Digger” to “Rock Around the Clock” to the humiliating “Electric Slide.” Admittedly, I can do the latter, but only under intense interrogation.
The flyer says lights out at
Calendar dates: 12/2 Toys for Tots (South End Brewery), 12/3 Santa Bar Crawl (
Anyone have a good story from the party? String me.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Tailgate Tales
Rounding up some casual observations book-ended by two recent Panther Sundays on the beverage circuit:
- Getting the worst of it out of the way early, a sullen writer seeking solace from the afternoon’s embarrassment at Soldier Field was satisfied with an overdue trip to Fox & Hound downtown for billiards and booze. $2.75 Coors Lights, although not my preference, sure helped rinse clean the filth in my mouth that accumulated from four quarters of no offense.
A pesto pizza and the aforementioned coldies did not help the pool game, but my playing partners were worse.
- One week ago, the year’s lone 4:00 kickoff “burdened” our tailgate with six extra hours of revelry, but I’m hard pressed to find a better post game than Angry Ale’s, which presented not only a fantastic late-night assembly of fans but a jukebox of fun to make your own dance floor, wherever.
It is important to note that they produce the best plate of nachos in the country. Chips, individually dressed with your requested ingredients, simply annihilate any competition in this field.
- Renovations are complete at Uptown Cabaret; it’s good to know that your hard-earned dollars once spent there moved the back bar to the front. Extra seating would appear to be the benefit, and in the interests of retaining the column’s PG-13 rating, dare we say, the scenery is still the same.
Downtown’s lone gentleman’s establishment offers free cover with ticket stub, so keep yours or rummage the top layers of area garbage cans for discards.
- I passed on Efren Ramirez’s visit to Crush last Wednesday night. Napoleon Dynamite’s “Pedro,” the affable Latino vying for class president, guest-DJ’d the evening to a reported low turnout.
One, the club circuit is well represented by the Observer’s Tonya Jameson, freeing up this former class treasurer for efforts better spent elsewhere.
Two, what did you think you would see? A low-rent actor out of costume, selling out to a college night crowd in
Hopefully he did some really sweet spins.
Sticking around for the Turkey Day weekend? Post your recommendations in a thread, or tell me you found better nachos somewhere.
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