Nightlife is full of moving parts and diverse choices. A V.I.P. at one place may be just another body at another or actually turned away at the door. There are still places where fools aren’t serviced because they will agree to pay way too much for a bottle and the table/real estate that comes with it. Even the best rooms in town rely on promoters to fill tables and attract beautiful people, which serve as candles, attracting the monied moths that pay the bills. Club management understand the recklessness and ambitions of the promoter. The word "promoter" is something the best try to shed fast. They call themselves owners, partners, directors, managers – anything to avoid the dreaded "P" word moniker. Promoters make promises to patrons that management and door staff often can’t honor. They try to wrangle under-age patrons past the door and will say anything to put asses in their banquette seats. They are paid for production. It is a numbers game. Those that count those beans must be reconsidering the employment of Frankie Leone.
I was alerted to a Facebook post by Mr. Frankie Leone, a promoter at various hotspots around town.
He has a hot mess cachet about him that attracts other similar types to places around town. Recently, he became an actual mess and missed a lot of work. I am not going to dwell on this except to state that unbelievably-always-accurate cliche: "He who lives in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones." His personal problems, which I am very aware of, will not be printed here, as I answer to a higher authority: my conscious and my girlfriend, regarding such matters. When I told him I was DJing at Avenue
recently, he told my gal "that Steve Lewis guy is really blowing up." She was amused. Frankie is sort of an amusing chap. At about 6-foot-5 with wall-to-wall tattoos, he resembles an ’80s junkie rockstar and brings an attitude that matches that look. He walks sort of like a drunk giraffe, looking like he is going to crash into someone or something at every turn. I have avoided him, as his schtick isn’t original or even well done but, alas, we do find ourselves in the same room once in a while. He is twice my size and half my age so if he has beef with me, it should be a fair fight… if I’m drunk.
Below is a "promo" message he posted on Facebook.
One of his employers, Tim Spuches of Hotel Chantelle
, informed me that as a result of this post, he has terminated Frankie’s promotional gig at that venue.
I will be at Avenue tonight to celebrate Tao Strategic Group
honcho Andrew Goldberg’s
birthday party. Andrew is also aware of Frankie’s stupid and obscene post. Note: the quasi-passable ID line. That will make management squirm. The last couple of lines are beneath contempt. I have been told by some that he’s "actually alright." Others point out that he’s "been through a lot." I hope he retracts and apologizes and, more importantly, understands that this kind of talk is hurtful and beneath the establishments he represents and himself.
Tonight (Wednesday) I will not host. I am taking two extra nights off (just this week). This Wednesday and Friday I’m going to rest and relax with my friends and family.
I’m even going to stay with my family a night (which I rarely get to do).
I’m really happy and excited.
However, I’m also excited for my triumphant return to the chaos of clubland tomorrow.
Tomorrow (Thursday) I host at Avenue in the upstairs VIP room. 116 10th Ave and 17th St.
Complimentary vodka, tequila, and champagne until you make an error in judgement you’ll roll your eyes when hearing about, but feel a secret feeling of satisfaction inside.
11:45PM WALK IN. Late arrivals please drop my name at the door for preferential treatment. Quasi-passable IDs are necessary.
***IT IS EXCELLENT NIGHT LIFE ETIQUETTE FOR GUYS TO BRING AESTHETICALLY FORTUNATE GIRL DATES.***
***FOR ALL PARTIERS ALL NIGHTS: BRINGING OVERWEIGHT FRIENDS = INAPPROPRIATE.***
Dance with your devils…
…Get down like that