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He Said “Homey” But He Meant Something Else…

Dear Friends,

I cannot begin to tell you about the frustration, and the disdain I feel for the business I am about to mention here. The upcoming scenario is a real one. I want to welcome you to a reality. A reality that I, particularly, share with other particular people. A reality that our country would like for us to forget, coaxing us into believing it is a thing of the past when really it is not. A reality that once before I felt lucky, maybe even naïve about having not experienced, but now feel humbled having thus discovered. It was Friday August 20, 2010 when two young men (myself and my friend) hanging out with a mutual friend from middle school, decided to visit a local bar in their hometown of Woodbridge, NJ. Big Shots Sports Bar & Grill. This is a relatively popular venue that sits on the border of Woodbridge and the neighboring town of Iselin. With an outdoor bar that accommodates a few hundred people, 50 or so high-def plasma TVs inside for sports-viewing pleasure, food, and okay music, it’s not a bad place to go to on a Friday night.

Our friend arrived before us. We followed up shortly after along with two more female friends and several other patrons. The bouncer at the door announced that there would be no guarantee we would be getting in that night due to overcrowding. He then directed us to the side of the building where we formed a line. After several minutes, the bouncer got back to us and said that we can go home and that NO ONE ELSE WOULD BE GETTING IN FOR THE NIGHT. Fair enough. So we contacted our friend who had arrived before us and had actually made it in and told her the news. She came outside, quite bemused about the situation as she told us bye; we thought nothing of it, but were a little disappointed. We notice more cars file into the parking lot. We figure their fate is going to be the same as ours: ‘go home, no one else is getting in tonight, good bye.’ But as these groups of people emptied their cars – a pair of white women; a group of white men; a few other white women; a white male and female couple – something strange happened. They all disappeared. Into the bar.

Either the crowd dissipated from within, implosion perhaps, or something because we couldn’t believe our eyes. We stood there confused about what just happened. For a moment. Then we reproached the bouncer. We questioned him about his decision to let those patrons in. He replied, “they’re cops, wanna talk to them?” We then reiterated what he told us about no one else getting in for the rest of the night which he responded to us with, “we have the right to be selective” – selective about a group of people who you ordered into a line consisting of me, my friend, our two Hispanic friends and several other minorities and told to go home because the establishment was full. We went back and forth with the bouncer and then he told us about the dress code – which he told us we did adhere to – but recited for us anyway. No baggy jeans, no backwards caps, no hoodies, no plain white t-shirts… we weren’t wearing any of that stuff. But then said that they don’t allow “no homie shit here.” “Homie shit” was the euphemism of choice considering I and my friend are black males and evidently they didn’t want us or our “homie shit” patronizing their business that night. Tempers flared, our discourse turns into an all out argument. The bouncer continues to threaten us with the idea of “cops” being present in their establishment and that we’re more than welcome to “speak” to them. We simply want a real explanation for our rejection that night.

The manager comes outside and reiterates that no one else is getting in for the night. Again – not just us two, but NO ONE. At this point, upcoming patrons are seeing and hearing everything going on. We continue arguing with the bouncer and manager that their rejecting us is unjustified and pure discrimination. The manager points to a black bouncer off to the side and says, “we have black employees.” That type of condescension is intolerable. We stand our ground and refuse to leave until they explain themselves. The manager then empties his pockets and throws up his hands. He starts yelling, directing his anger towards my friend, “I want that motherfucker! Bring him over here!” We originally came to have a good time. Now we want answers for our rejection and he wants to fight. The black bouncer finally comes over, escorts us away from the door and that was that. For the remainder of the time we spent in the parking lot talking to the bouncer, more white patrons showed up and were allowed entry. Onlookers and passersby are in disarray about what had just happened yet still decide to patronize the establishment.

What happened to me and my friend last week wasn’t instigated. We didn’t pose a threat to anyone in there; we aren’t threatening or intimidating individuals to begin with. Instead we’re just two young black men who just want to be respected and treated like human beings. Not looked at as suspects and insulted. We didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. But it happened. It is happening. This is the reality that people of color face every waking moment, whether we’re applying for a job, moving into a community, or simply looking to grab a beer. This is what we’re dealing with! And it’s an insult to say otherwise and to suggest that this is a post-racism country. This is still very much a racist country, the euphemisms have just gotten cleverer and the forms of racism are disguised a lot better. Big Shots Sports Bar & Grill is an example of this evolution. With a policy like “no homie shit” they might as well have a sign outside that reads “Whites Only.” That’s an intolerable display of business in this day and age and an insufferable experience that we shouldn’t have to go through.

My only hope with this is to shine light on a topic, on a reality, that is still very much prevalent. On a night, in a suburb, where the grass is green, the fences are picketed and white, and the disillusioned, whitewashed perspective of ‘this’ American life prevails, reality struck. Now welcome.

Cheers,

André Melvin Jones, Jr.

P.S. Feel free to let them know how you feel:
Big Shots Sports Bar & Grill
780 US Highway 1 Iselin, NJ 08830
(732)750-5050

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posted by Patrick Dieudonne