Club Chronicles, Pt. 2: Black People the Holiday Jackers
It wasn't really the club, but it may as well have been. Picture this: On the Border for Cinco de Mayo. A friend's mutual friend told her On the Border was having an outdoor party with drink specials and music. Drink specials. I'm all in. I remembered that On the Border at another location had a similar event last year, but it was over before we got there. This year, I'm all in. Bring on the margaritas and salsa music.
Let me tell you something about my African Americans. We will party for anything! Give us music and drinks and it's a done deal. I asked my friend if the DJ usually plays Latin music because I just knew they wouldn't play "urban music" at a Cinco de Mayo event. We pulled up. The parking lot was packed. I thought, "whoa, everybody is having a good time. Great." As I inch closer, I realize that the brown people I see aren't Latinos, it's the good Black folks. Cuttin up, do you hear me? There is no salsa/Latin music. No electric piano. No horns. All you could hear was Wipe Me Down by Foxx, Boosie and Webbie. What the hell?? I couldn't believe. Most important, there were no Latinos!! Not one, unless you count the server.
Finding a Latino out there was like playing Where's Waldo? I kept looking. We are all BROWN PEOPLE. But to no avail. I lost Where's Waldo that night. I mean, Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's holiday, right? We just came in and jacked their holiday right quick. Doggone shame. On top of that, the DJ is shouting out South Memphis, North Memphis and Scutterfield (only locals would know). They are tootsie rollin' on the deck to I'm a Flirt. Again, I ask, "What the hell?"
We were seated finally only to find out that the "drink specials" were margaritas in little plastic cups for $4. Then you had to get the regular margarita flavor. No mangos or strawberry ritas. It was so packed, they ran out of glasses and served drinks in styrofoam cups. If it's not glass, it's coming with me!
Say it ain't so. That was the most bizarre scenario I have ever been in.
Our server was a cute young thang who was "straight Memphis" to say the least. Slang galore. My friend suggested that he was really Latino, just raised around Black people. I said, nah, I doubt. Later on, he sat next to us and was talking on his cell phone. He turned into Cheech and Chong immediately. WTH? He flipped the phone down and went right back to talking to us in slang mode. Cute and billingual. Spanish, English and Ebonics.
Cinco de Mayo will never be the same.