zen beers and still be productive
the next day.
The Scene set out to record a typi-
cal night in the life of a bar crowd.
First, we wanted to eavesdrop on
random bar-speak, catch bits of con-
versation and pick-up lines. When
that bombed, we tried for the spon-
taneous interview approach, stepping
up to bar patrons and asking them
out their bar-going habits. What
we found is that either it was a lame
night for the bar scene, or Detroit's
young adult community is a little
more mellow than we anticipated. Of
course, by 11:30 p.m., we were
tempted to call it a night, too.
Clubs and entertainment-based
places like J.D.'s Key Club, Clutch
argo and the Velvet Lounge in . Pon-
tiac attract large crowds who wait to
enter in long lines outside. Those
places are always packed.
The new Birmingham bar, Bad
Frog, which replaced Old Woodward
Grill in the 555 building on South
Woodward, was a little quiet two
Saturdays ago, which the bar staff
said was unusual. It was a rainy night
d there was a hockey game on, fac-
tors which often discourage people
from venturing outside. Plus, it corn-
petes with Dick O'Dow's, which
already has a solid following, and
220 Merrill, just up the street. A reli-
able source reported that Thursdays
at Bad Frog are hopping. It's a cool
place, sure to catch on before long.
Here's a taste of what we found:
They sit on high, wood stools
around circular tables, sipping Bad
Frog-label beers, as cigarettes slowly
burn. Cell phones rest beside purses.
I see someone familiar, walk over and
meet her friends. One guy turns to
me with heavy-lidded eyes.

7

"I've met you twice and written
your name, so I know you like eight
times," he slurs.
I glance in my friend's direction,
one eyebrow raised. "It's been a long

social" guys who don't usually pick
up girls.
On to the next table. I find Joe,
26, and Rick, 27, sitting at the bar.
Good-looking guys who seem con-

I think this is where the concept of
"lines" comes from.
We settle onto hard bar stools and
listen to the classic rock tunes.—
Jimmy Buffett, Eric Clapton, The
Doors — pulsing from ceiling-level
speakers. People spread coats over the
stools, to protect their rear ends and
also to avoid the holding dilemma,
when you're stuck with a purse or
jacket for hours. Good music, mel-
low crowd, sports on TV, fresh beer.
No mixing or mingling, varied crowd
with every "type" and every stereo-
typical "class" represented. It's rain-
ing in Birmingham.
A little later, we try again, and
meet Larry, 40. He goes to the bar
occasionally to meet people, occa-
sionally to socialize with friends." I
ask if he ever meets women at the
bar, and he nods. How? "Just like I
started talking to you," he says, and
I've got to give him credit for
smoothness.
The atmosphere picks up around
11:30 p.m. Groups of young adults
arrive in miniskirts and sweaters and
jeans. They're smiling, it's someone's
birthday. The photographer eaves-
drops on a pick-up attempt at the
bar. When the guy gets rejected and
the girl walks away, he mutters. The
girl says to her friend, "We're too old
for this."
The photographer explains that
the guy's response is typical, "because
he didn't get a number. It's a normal
response — if a guy doesn't get a
number, he blames the woman," he
says.
Classic miscommunication. So we
launch into a discussion of guy-girl
relations and the top mistakes of the
dating scene, when it hits us: This is
what the bar scene is all about. ❑

"

night," she says and laughs.
The mellow side of the bar scene
has people sitting casually in groups
of friends; few individuals wander
over to strangers to scope out their
status or pick up a number. Three
guys sit around a table, barely talk-
ing, looking relaxed and stress-free.
They gaze at the big-screen TV,
watching the puck slide across the
ice, Dallas versus San Jose.
John, 30, Rick, 32, and Kevin, 29,
came to hang out and watch the
game. John's girlfriend is out of
town, and he and his brother, Kevin,
haven't seen Rick in a while. They
describe themselves as basically "anti-

tent to sit silently and slowly sip
beer. Their slicked-back hair and per-
fectly pressed polos and jeans make
us think they might be regular bar-
goers.
Joe can't decide if he's 24 or 26,
and they launch into a story about
how they never meet girls because
they're too shy, they have no confi-
dence, and oh, by the way, Rick's
getting his doctorate in psychology
at the University of Windsor. Yeah,
right. We don't believe them for a
second. Our suspicions are con-
firmed as, five minutes later, Joe and
Rick saunter over to a group of girls
and start chatting them up. Too shy?