Getting to Diamondback’s is a snap, especially if you have easy access to I-94. Going west from the city, get off at Belleville Road and travel south a short distance to the service drive going west. It is a bit offsetting as you will feel like you are going the wrong way on this service drive (think John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles). In about one mile, you will see the huge barn that is Diamondback Saloon. Parking is easy in the huge lot that surrounds the joint.
Tony and I were in bad need of drink and the short line leading into the bar did not seem as if it would be much of a deterrent. The fat ass checking ID had other ideas and was taking his job very seriously, matching face to license, rubbing the fucking identification to see if anything had been added and making a big deal subtracting the three dollar cover from a five dollar bill.
Finally inside, we headed to the long bar and ordered a Miller Light and Labatts. I heard “three dollars” over the din and assumed it was three apiece. I was pleased to find that three singles covered both drinks during some sort of drink special. Score one for the country folks. Occasionally, re-upping on the beer proved difficult. Subtract half a point.
This place was packed. It was a very interesting mix of cowboys and cowgirls, with neither side having a numerical advantage. The age of this throng was young, but there were enough older folks enjoying themselves to keep me from standing out (too much). The guys were all in jeans and untucked button down shirts or t-shirts, many had their dress cowboy hat perched on their heads. More facial hair in this crowd than normal, even saw a few beards (trying to channel Travolta’s first visit to Gilley’s in Urban Cowboy). There was no shortage of women, and as Eric Burden said there were “long ones, tall ones, short ones, brown ones, black ones, big ones, crazy ones.”
The floor plan of the bar is unique and a great big pain in the ass. The dance floor and band are sunk down a level. The dance floor has a rail around one side, a great pervert’s row perch for watching the action. After much debate, Tony and I stayed away from this choice spot because it was almost always populated by women. We didn’t want any good old boys thinking we was “queer”.
The seats go up around the dance floor and bandstand in three tier amphitheater style. Each of the three floors is jammed with tables and chairs and closed off at one end, making walking around next to impossible. The effect of this is a bit unsettling as each floor looks down on the action below, a cowboy version of Mad Max in the Thunderdome.
The hic portion of the evening is provided by the house band, Derringer, and from what I could tell they have played there for quite a while. They sound good, the woman fronting them is very hot and dresses the part, and most importantly they get people on the floor. A lot of people on the floor. They dance in clusters, alone, in huge groups, in small groups just fucking about and in couples who take this country dance thing very seriously.
When the band takes a break, a local radio station takes over and the hop portion of the evening gets underway. Classic hip hop songs, not too threatening to whitey, are blared and once again the floor is packed. I never thought I would live to see a bunch of cowboy hats moving around to Digital Underground, but this crowd was able to line dance to anything.
There is a very friendly vibe to the proceedings. It felt a little like a party that Tony and I walked in on, but were welcome at. A couple of embarrassing uncles that drink too much, but are more or less harmless.
My earlier leeriness was completely unwarranted. If you like to dance, want to hook-up, don’t need to throw around a lot of money or pretension. the Diamondback Saloon is a great bet.
Cheers!
-Jim
Diamondback Saloon: 49345 S. I-94 Service Drive Belleville, MI 48111
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