David Grazian - On the Make: The Hustle of Urban Nightlife

On the Make - The Hustle of Urban Nightlife

The University of Chicago Press - Chicago and London

David Grazian is associate professor of sociology at
the University of Pennsylvania. He is the author of
Blue Chicago: The Search for Authenticity in Urban Blues
Clubs , also published by University of Chicago Press.

The University of Chicago Press, Chicago 60637
The University of Chicago Press, Ltd., London
2008 by The University of Chicago
All rights reserved. Published 2008
Printed in the United States of America

16 15 14 13 12 11 10 09 08
1 2 3 4 5

Parts of chapters 1 and 2 originally appeard in David Grazian,
Id Rather Be in Philadelphia, Contexts 4, no. 2 (2005): 71-73.
A version of vhapter 5 originally appeard in David Frazian, The
Girl Hunt: Urban Nightlife and the Performance of Masculinity as
Collective Activity, Symbolic Interaction 30, no. 2 (2007): 221-43.

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-30667-7 (cloth)
ISBN-10: 0-226-30567-6 (cloth)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Grazian, David
On the make: the hustle of urban nightlife David Grazian.>p. cm.
Includes index.

ISBN-13: 978-0-226-30567-7 (cloth: alk. paper)
ISBN-10: 0-226-30567-8 (cloth: alk. paper) 1. Young
adults-Pennsylvania-Philadelphia-Social conditions.
2. City and town life-Pennsylvania-Philadelphia 3. Bars
(Drinking establishments)-Pennsylvania-Philadelphia.
4. Nightclubs-Pennsylvania-Philadelphia. I. Title.
HQ799.73.P55G783 2008
307.76408420974811-dc22 2007020855

The paper used in thei publication meets the
minimum requirements of the American National
Standard for Information Sciences-Permanence
of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI
Z39.48-1992.

For Meredith and Nathaniel

CONTENTS

1 , i

2 Dynamic Imagineering: The Staging of Urban Nightlife , 29

3 Spin Control: Public Relations and Reality Marketing , 63

4 Winning Bar: Nightlife as a Sporting Ritual , 93

5 In the Company of Men: The Girl Hunt and the Myth of the Pickup , 134

6 Hustling the Hustlers: Challenging the Girl Hunt , 161

7 Where the Action Is: Storytelling and the Imagination of Risk , 198

8 , 224

Acknowledgments , 235

Appendix: Research Methods , 237

Notes , 243

Index, 277

At Tangerine, a fashionable French-Moroccan restaurant and cocktail lounge in the Old City section of downtown Philadelphia, diners enter a candlelit Mediterranean dreamscape of rooms within rooms. Red fabrics and pillows adorn this mazelike Casbah, each chamber draped with velvet curtains, providing pleasure-seekers with their very own Arabian nights. Patrons rhapsodize over North African-inspired selections that include king salmon poached in olive oil and served with potato tortelloni and hazelnut-basil mousse, and chicken tagine, a Moroccan stew prepared with green olives and preserved lemons.

Many of the citys sharply dressed men and women flock to Tangerine to bask in its exotic glamour, but not Allison, a twenty-one-year-old hostess and cocktail waitress who endures every evening handling unruly customers. On any given night at Tangerine, the complaints remain the same: Where is my table? I want the best table. Why am I not seated? My reservation was for 6:3o p.m.! Its 6:35 where is my table?

While entertaining their demands, Allison must remain composed and empathetic. Well, they are just finishing their dessert. Itll be a few moments, if you would like to have a seat in the bar or lounge, or grab a cocktail? she says.

I dont want to grab a cocktail, they inevitably retort. I want to sit down in my seat. I made a reservation.

According to Allison, There was this one day, it was a Sunday and for whatever reason there must have been three parties of twelve, all arriving at the same time. It was a really busy day, it was really tight in terms of table seating, and we couldnt get one table sat right away because there wasnt a table for them yet-you know, people sit down for a dinner at Tangerine, and they dont get up. Sometimes they will be there for five hours, and you cant tell them to leave-you can try to hurry them along, crumb them a lot, water them, drop the check, but you cant make someone leave.

They are all sitting there in the lounge, and this man just comes up and he screams, literally screams, GET ME MY FUCKING TABLE! I dont care what you have to do! I mean, he just came up and literally screamed at me, like, This is what you are supposed to do-if you tell me I am going to have a reservation, you are going to get me seated! All this stuff, and I want to yell back so bad, Sir, take a look in the dining room. If you see a table that can accommodate your party, have a seat, by all means. But you cant: you have to be nice. I remember as soon as that night was over, I just sat in the coatroom. I was crying. It was the worst.

Of course, from time to time Allison enjoys her revenge. As she confesses, A lot of times people would say, I want a really good tableI want your best table. And then you would kind of work it back with them in a way to make them think that that was a really difficult thing to do. And then you would get side-tipped a lot. I have made $100 in a night sometimes, just letting people think that the tables they were getting were really difficult to get. Theyll either remember me on the way out, or theyll introduce themselves, shake hands, thank me, and there is money in their palm.

Across the Schuylkill River on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania, undergraduates Mackenzie, Nicole, and Mia juggle countless phone calls, instant messages, and consultationsAre jeans too casual to wear? Is it too cold outside to wear sandals? How heavy of a jacket do we need? Can I borrow your black belt? before finally settling on matching outfits for their Friday evening of downtown barhopping. Casually clad in jeans and tank tops, the three young women hail a taxi to the bustling intersection of Second and Market streets a few doors down from Tangerine in Old City. Upon reaching their destination, the trio momentarily holds up traffic while disembarking from the cab; a pair of men in their mid-twenties admonishes them from their sleek silver sports car. Mackenzie, a nineteen-year-old sophomore, suspects that the men are just flirting with her and her friends while gratuitously calling attention to their flashy automobile.

Now where to go? Nicole knows a bouncer at Bleu Martini, a swanky cocktail lounge just around the corner, but he does not appear to be outside the bar as they pass by, so it is off to Saint Jacks so Mia can use the restroom. They flash their fake IDs and enter the darkened bar as the eyes of the allmale clientele follow them down the length of the room. Distressed by their stares, Mackenzie and her friends quickly escape back to Bleu Martini, where they fight their way through the well-heeled crowd to the backlit bar for their drinks. A gentleman attempts to converse with Mia, tapping her on the back several times even as she waves him away. She is eventually saved by Nicoles bouncer friend, who invites the trio into the VIP lounge and hands them over to another host.

The three friends are led downstairs into the lounge, an illuminated cavern bathed in red light and decorated with mirrored walls, tiger-skinned couches, and low cocktail tables. Two groups of guests are already seated: a young group of about eight men and women in the far corner and a group of four older gentlemen on a couch in the middle of the lounge. To the trios surprise, the host instructs them to join the group of older men, promising that if they talk to them and keep them happy, the gentlemen will likely ply them with drinks.

Mackenzie is disgusted. She had incorrectly assumed that the three of them were the lucky recipients of special privileges brokered by Nicole, rather than merely singled out as attractive young women chosen to surround the nightclubs male high rollers. (I feel as if they were trying to whore us out, she later admits.) Much to the hosts dismay, they reject his offer, opting instead for a couch across the room. No matterten minutes later he returns with another set of three young women willing to do his bidding in the meantime. A man selects one and places his hand on her leg, rubbing it as he attempts to draw her into conversation. As another pretty young woman in a short skirt passes by the table, the men suddenly stop all conversation and stare, following her with a full -degree head turn before bursting out into laughter.