But first, Cookie wants to see Punk's reaction to our friendly vandalism. After seeing the message on her truck, Punk screams at CooKie, "My mom eats great pussy, huh? Yeah, well, your mom doesn't, and I KNOW!"
We chuckle all the way to Club Vibe.
Boobie only started on June 8, but I'd been seeing it hyped on MySpace for months. Not only was the name catchy — I mean, who doesn't love some Boobie? — but the flier advertised a "spectacular sound and light show." Oh, yeah, and hot women.
Club Vibe opened where Phoenix's most celebrated lesbian bar, Ain't Nobody's Bizness, used to be — in a strip mall with a bowling alley off Indian School. In its heyday, "The Biz" was thelesbian nightspot, with lines winding down the sidewalk on some nights and hardly any room on the dance floor.
Last year, the space was sold to two gay men, who turned it into Club Vibe. The pair has admittedly been struggling to attract the lesbian crowd. CooKie thinks the owners have been struggling because lesbians are loyal to the lesbian owners of other clubs and won't support something owned by gay men.
I don't know if that's necessarily true, but I do know that Club Vibe's at least been attempting to find a niche, spinning heavy doses of Latin pop and reggaeton, trying to draw in the lesbian Latina crowd (not a bad idea, as Paco Paco and Karamba pretty much have a monopoly on the gay Latino scene). This Boobie weekly, which is put on by Carnival Latino and AZ Club Lipstick, seems to have the most potential for success, offering live DJ mixes, $2 domestic pitchers, raffles for tickets to Phoenix Mercury basketball games, and no cover before 10:30 p.m. (it costs $5 after that).
We arrive around midnight, which is high-action time at most clubs. But here, the action is moderate. There are only about 40 people (of both genders), and continuous scoping of the bar reveals only one really sexy woman — a tiny Latina in a tight, white dress who's jiggling like Jell-O out on the dance floor to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie." There's a handful of other attractive gals, and at least a dozen people dancing, but the vibe is otherwise low-key.
Playa and Punk dance for a few songs, and CooKie and I go fool around in the bathroom. Then we sit at the bar and she sends text messages to people while I watch the hot Latina. It's not long before my companions complain of boredom. CooKie gives me the breakdown. "Okay, so zGirl Club had the most hot chicks, and there are a handful of hot chicks here. Cash Inn and e-Lounge were eh. But, baby, this Boobie thing is lame."
One of the problems may be the fact that while reggaeton star Daddy Yankee's blaring out of the sound system, the televisions above the bar are showing muted Ozzy Osbourne videos. Some gay bars in town, like Velocity and Plazma, use their television screens to show footage of hot, half-naked men. So if Club Vibe's gonna shoot for the whole "hot Latina" vibe, they oughtta put images of sexy spitfires on their screens instead of a middle-aged British metal singer.
And there's another drawback: The size of the club has been cut almost in half since it ceased being The Biz. Total capacity is now only 200 people — probably not enough for the Valley's prominent promoters, and certainly not enough for out-of-town promoters like L.A.'s "GirlBar," which books special events around Phoenix every couple of months. When the building housed The Biz, it had a fenced-off, all-ages section. Many people of drinking age grumbled about the chain-link segregation, but that area was packed almost every night. Now, there's not a single all-ages lesbian bar in town. Maybe opening their doors to the 18-and-over gay crowd that doesn't have anywhere else to go would help business (just not the bar tabs, which unfortunately, are the lifeblood of most clubs).
And because having hot women is the most important part of a good lesbian club night, the guys who own Club Vibe have gotta figure out how to get the girls there. I suggest taking a cue from zGirl Club and hosting amateur pole dancing and wet T-shirt competitions. Women may not like to admit it, but we, too, ogle and drool like dogs when we see something supersexy.
Speaking of sexy, Playa and Punk decide to dance to one more song before we leave. It's some hip-hop mix mashed up with norteño, and Punk's bent over in front of Playa, doing some bizarre butt-shake thing. Playa slyly reaches down and unsnaps Punk's belt without her noticing, and when Punk stands up straight, her shorts drop to her knees. She quickly gathers her britches and we head for the door, laughing.
It's 1 a.m. The bar closes in an hour. If Boobie hasn't picked up by now, it's probably not gonna happen tonight. (We went back the following Friday, after promoters started marketing Boobie as "a night for gays and lesbians," and found that the coed crowd had grown quite a bit.)
I really enjoyed this article, and want to thank Nicki for writing it. Sorry if it didn't appeal to the masses, aka, the non-lesbian/bisexual female community, but I thought it was funny and provided some good insight into the bar scene. I've lived here for about 6 months and really haven't been out much, but now I have an idea of where to go, just in time for some friends who are visiting next month. Thanks again!
Not Surprised, all I know is that if I was a lesbian coming for a visit to Phoenix, I'd go to Z-Girl club because they throw a better party as opposed to the other clubs visited. That was what the article was about right? That certainly looks like journalism to me. As for the creativity, I wish I was creative enough to get into a water pistol fight with a bunch of hot lesbians. But, that's just me. Well, me and most other men. ;)
This isn't journalism. It's a lame personal diary entry from a writer with no creativity. It's sad that the New Times must resort to filling pages with this crap.
I hear that the Holy Diver is also super pissed about the new internet radio royalty hike.
Fret not, guitargod. The next one will be about Ronnie James Dio's boobs and how they're affecting musicians' efforts to stop the genocide in Darfur.
You're goddamned right you won't find that kind of action in Tucson. People down there are too busy being "artists" and making "music" to have a good time. What a bunch of pussies.In all seriousness though, I think its really discouraging that with all the important things happening in the world of music these days, all this paper can think to write about is how awesome it was to get wasted at a shitty gay bar. On second thought, none of the important issues I'm thinking about have anything to do with Ronnie James Dio, so it stands to reason that Nikki would ignore them. I take back what I said. Give me more Boobies!
I like hot girl on girl action as much as the next person, but this is sad. I say this for 2 reasons. First, my Friday night was WAY more interesting than the one described in this article. I got hammered ass drunk, saw some titties and lit a guitar on fire. My only regret is that my friends and I didn't think to put the fire out with squirt guns, that would have really sent things over the top.More importantly, I fail to see what this article has to do with the MUSIC scene in this shit town of ours.
Omar, you don't like titties and squirt guns? I found this article much more interesting than that crap about cops and tasers. Public safety? WHO CARES. GIVE ME MORE LESBIAN ANTICS!
The writing was done well on this article but unfortunately I'm left thinking "since when do blogs get city-wide print distribution?". I keep reading articles about a few people I don't know and their night on the town, in which nothing too exciting really happens. There was some interesting info in here, with good background about the "scene" but sometimes I just wonder why people would care to read about someone elses' night?
Squirt guns? Wet T's? How old is Niki anyway? 13 1/2? I guess you have to find readers where you can.
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