Last Friday we went to the Dallas Nightclub for our regular Friday night dance. We always arrive when the doors open at 6:00 PM and usually stay until about 9:00 PM. Last Friday we were feeling particularly energetic so, at nine, we decided to go somewhere else, and that somewhere turned out to be the South 40 down on Ben White for our first visit.
We arrived, I suppose, sometime around 9:30 PM. Walking in the door, there was a short line waiting to pay the $4.00 cover. I didn't think anything about the cover and just assumed they had some local band inside. The ditsy little airhead collecting the money had a tip jar next to her register and upon payment, every single time she would hold out the jar and say, "Remember, tipping is not a city in China" as she would bat her eyes and grin as if this mantra was actually very comical. Reminded me of some beggar holding out a cup or some intersection jockey with a "Will work for food" sign which really means "give me some money to buy drugs." She, of course, tried that bull shit on me and I told her, "I would keep that in mind after I got inside and found a waitress actually performing a service." Anyway, that is what you put up with getting through the front door.
I am a little bit annoyed by this time (as you can probably tell) after the shakedown at the door, but we go on in and I look around to see if the band is set up yet. Low and behold, there is no band, just a DJ. And, although I don't know it yet, this DJ is destined to occupy a special place in my book of bad DJ's.
Now keep in mind, this is a country and western bar/dance hall, and it's not exactly your typical urban cowboy setting either. It is an older, fairly rough looking place and just the kind of joint you expect to hear some good country music, rockabilly, swing, and some Lyle Lovett or Stevie Ray Vaughn blues. What do you get here? At first came a few old draggy two steps followed by some rap thing that went on for 15 solid minutes. The only people dancing were a couple of ol' skanky girls out there dancing with each other. And they couldn't even shake their lard asses for more than 10 minutes of this rap marathon.
Just when I thought my head was about to explode, it ended and this so called DJ that we paid $4.00 each to hear puts a few two steps on autopilot and goes over and sits at the bar while they run. Next, he wanders back over to his booth and puts on AC/DC "She Shook Me all Night Long", followed immediately by a couple of Guns and Roses. I happen to be a big fan of AC/DC as well as Guns and Roses, but I don't go to a country bar to hear either. Apparently, neither did anyone else because there was not a single dancer during the entire ordeal. Next came a couple more country songs, then the Salsa started ... aaaaannd we were out the door before the first song was half way through so I can't tell you what happened after about 11:30. I draw a line in the sand at Salsa! It is fine on chips, but I'm not going to put that crap in my ears.
Take my word for it, the South 40 in Austin is one sorry place to go, at least on Friday night, which you would think would be one of their better nights. I don't know what it would take to get me to give it another try. Maybe, if they canned the beggar at the front door and got a decent DJ. They do have a good dance floor and the waitresses were very nice so the place has potential. I wonder if another night of the week is better? I'm too snake bit now to check it out.