Cafe De Paris - 1984

1984
London
Leicester Square
The Cafe de Paris
Music DJed by Albert de Paname
Dancing
The young
The place to be
Black Jack and I
At the door
A ten-thick crowd
Other side of the ropes.
We control the destiny of the night.
In or out.
Ingrid arrives with Alice
Ingrid alive
A big smile
Jamaican from Cardiff, Wales
Alice
Svelte
Blonde
English
An aristocrat in a rubber dress
Jacques and I part the crowd
Like Moses and Aaron
Kisses on the cheeks
Happy to be there
Happy they are here.
Friends forever
Day or night.

Making An Entrance

Area on Hudson was one of New York's most popular nightclubs in the 80s.

Every night hundreds of people waited beyond the velvet ropes for entrance.

Admission wasn't a given.

But in this photo the baldish man in the foreground was headed to the bar to order a cognac and coke. It was his drink. I know, because later Jack Lesko was part-owner with Scottie Taylor at the Milk Bar. He loved the nightlife.

"Ah, the magic of Studio."

He was a little magic himself and I was glad to hear recently from a diamond client that Jack had survived a bout with the Big C.

"Give him my best."

And I meant it.

We are the nightlife.

AREA - NYC

Last month Area held a re-union party to celebrate the lives of the club-goers.

I skipped the event to babysit my landlord's two children.

Area wasn't really my scene.

I was living in Paris throughout its heyday.

The doorman Joe Breeze couldn't stand me, but the bouncers were part of my crew.

I entered without paying and drank for free.

I can't remember anything special happening there.

But most people can.

Both owners Eric Goode and Sean Hausman had a touch for fun.

Cops In The Good Old Days

Nightclub raconteur Steve Lewis wrote on Blackbook.com that the NYPD harassment of the nightclub GREENHOUSE appeared to be blatant racism.

http://www.blackbookmag.com/racism-core-greenhouse-harassment/

That certainly seems to be the case.

The police hate nightclubs, because they don't get payoffs like the 'good ole days' unless they put pressure on the joint and then the 'bagman' comes to make an arrangement.

Back at the Jefferson the local mob visited the after-hour club and asked for the management.

I asked if they were there to provide 'protection'.

They said 'yeah'.

I told them we have a problem.

"See those guys over there. If you can make them leave, then will take care of you."

"Who are they?"

"The 9th precinct."

The gangster left without a word.

There was no racism involved in that incident.

Only corruption.

Those were the gold ole days indeed.