Partying with the other side

OCTOBER 16, 2006

Well my friends I have seen the other side…

 I have seen a club where it's cool inside, a club where the show starts on time, a club where there's never a line for the bar, and the music isn't too loud, My friends…I went to a white jazz club. I never knew such a place existed. The Bottle Tree Café here In Birmingham. I went there with a few older siblings from my dad's side of the family to watch the  'Jack DeJohnette / Bill Frisell / Jerome Harris Trio'  Great band if you're into live jazz.

 What threw me off about this place was that they didn't have a liquor license so you had to bring your own alcohol if you intended to drink.  B.Y.O.B. as most people call it. Here's a picture from the only B.Y.O.B I'd ever attended before this…

This man was legendary. He's the only heckler I've ever taken a picture with. I'm sure his family doesn't want to remember him like he was that night (* especially in that blue jacket*) so I've opted to black out his face. I hate that Tre' took his hat off. Because only with his hat on can you capture the true drunkeness of this man.

He's probably dead by now. As much whiskey as he drank that night, he probably died the next day.  And even if he's not dead, I'm sure he's in the final stages of liver cirrhosis  Or as my uncle calls it, "that s---t that turn ya liver green."

This picture is the perfect embodiment of a black B.Y.O.B. "Drink All of your liquor as fast as you can and get embarrassingly drunk" and NEVER leave your liquor alone. At a black BYOB someone is always at the table guarding the alcohol. Screw the purses, somebody needs to watch the Vodka.

Well, here at the Bottle Tree Café they have a BYOB as well, but get this… you turn your liquor in at the bar when you walk in. The bar tender then puts your name on your item and  you periodically return to the bar and tell the bartender your name and he pours you up a glass of whatever wine or cognac you brought with you.

I knew there was going to be something special about this place. Anywhere that labels their men's and women's restrooms 'Ike & Tina' is going to be a special place.

The club provided ice and chasers for anyone who didn't have it. 

I know you can't see what's going on but in the darkness are about 40-50 bottles all with someone's name written on the front. What was astonishing to me was how people would come to the bar and just blurt out a name and the bartender, without checking an ID would simply go and get that item.

I decided to test the waters..I went to the bar and said… "hey I'm Scott," just to see what would happen, I got a glass of vodka.

Sweet.

Here's the best part of the night…  I was too far from the stage to hear the band for real so I proceed to talk college football with some people around the bar. That's when I felt a tap on my shoulder from someone near me, this little white dude tapped me on the shoulder and said…"Excuse me, but I paid to hear the band. I'd like to hear them please."

He was very polite in how he said it, he meant me no harm or no drama, he honestly wanted to hear jazz. Here's the kicker, I QUIT TALKING !!!   No sense in causing drama. When you're the only black person in a room like that you're essentially an ambassador for your race. As I stood there in my silence all I could think was….

 Is this how the other side parties? Is this how it always is?      

 Rich affluent white people in their early 40's all enjoying music while drinking THEIR OWN liquor and not fighting?  Telling each other to be quiet and there not be a conflict?

                                                                                          
     Things like this could NEVER happen at a black club.  1) if it were BYOB no one would trust the bartender with their liquor  Take a second look at this pic of me and Tre....

Notice on the table the large paper bag. Do you really think those people would've turned their liquor in to some bar when they walked in?

Take a look at the lady in red. Look in her right hand...you'll notice she has her brown bag liquor in a DEATH GRIP right next to her purse. She won't even put her liquor on the damn table let alone leave it with some strange dude.

and even if a dude did leave his liquor at the bar with his name on it, every time a brother would come back for some of his Crown Royal he'll swear that someone at the bar was drinking it. They'll argue the levels of the liquor for hours on end about it and someone will get shot.        

   In hind sight I probably should've at least aid something smart mouth back to the lil white dude that told me to be quiet. Because now he's walking around town thinking he can punk any black dude he sees. I'm sure a week from now he'll be in the movie theater with 3 black people behind  him smoking weed and kicking the back of his seat and he'll remember what he said to me at the bottle tree Café'.  He'll stand up and turn around and in a nice calm voice…."excuse me sir, but I paid to watch the movie. So if you don't mind you should be quiet so that my girlfriend and I can SMACK !!!  SLAP!!!  GUNSHOT" 

 If this is how the other side parties, it's going to take some getting used to. A comic this weekend was telling me about some big name celebrities in Los Angeles that throw big house parties and command women in the room to give men oral sex IN FRONT OF ALL THE PARTY GOERS.

 If you decline the oral sex then you're kicked out of the party. I'd go to the party just to get kicked out. I'm not interested in getting herpes from some random sex party whore but I was once thrown out of a Jamaican club in Tallahassee for arguing the price of admission so this would be a welcome change of pace. Sound's like a helluva party…I wonder if it's BYOB.

Wood, Jr.