Every so often, a Friday Night rolls around and I am not in the mood to go out for revelry. The work week has worn me to a nub, it’s cold outside, I am not feeling quite up to snuff...
But, being a warrior, and not wanting to let little bro down, I grab a hot shower, a bloody shave of the head, douse myself in tacky cologne and head out the door. Many times, I find Tony to be in a similar mood. It’s like two chicks living together who get their periods at the same time. It can be quiet heading to the tavern of choice.
This is where my/our problem comes in.
The stink of stale cigs, the sound of a crappy cover band and the sight of a girl wearing clothes that are too tight for her body are the tonic that brings me back to life. Any worries, aches or tiredness are washed away with that first sip of Miller Light ( my personal version of Lourdes healing water).
That was the turnaround this past weekend as Tony and I stayed close to home, visiting B Boomers in Allen Park. This maize and blue haunt sits atop a small hill on Southfield Road at the foot of Roosevelt. There is parking on both sides of the bar, and on neighborhood streets if needed.
I have lived in Allen Park for 25 years, and a review of this joint cannot begin without an Allen Park Police warning. These pricks are well known to study the people leaving this bar in hopes of making a lucrative DUI bust. Never mind that I live on a residential street corner where punk kids and cell phone listening moms and dads routinely ignore stop signs and speed limits. The AP cops are way more interested in you after your third beer of the night. You will not catch a break.
There is no cover at B Boomers and rarely any line to enter. Not only is there no dress code, but don’t bother to dress to impress. Nobody else does. The main floor is filled with tables and chairs, which surround a small dance floor and raised bandstand. Up a couple steps to a small mezzanine overlooking the dance floor with more tables and chairs. Up a couple more steps to the bar and barstool seating. A few more tables flank the bar.
Why do I mention this configuration in such detail? Because you can’t walk around this fucking place, that’s why. Everybody stalks out their spot and hunkers down. If you are the type of person who likes to move about, forget it. You will stick out like a thin girl downriver, bumping shins all over the place and collecting strange looks.
Still, the beer is cold and cheap. B Boomers has draft beer specials all the time, if you can stand drinking from a flimsy plastic cup. Even though there is only one bar, the waitstaff patrols the floor and the barmaids work hard to keep you happy.
There are also live bands on the weekends, with Liquid Six kicking out the jams on the night we visited. Each member of this band took turns handling lead vocals, in search of someone who could sing a note or muster genuine emotion. I must have been the only prick who noticed, because the dance floor was consistently busy. Not full, but busy.
The crowd was decidedly mixed in age, evenly split between men and women and overwhelmingly white in hue. Big hair and muffin tops are in for the ladies, dangling cigarettes and droopy ass jeans for the men. People tended to hang with those they came with (see previous rant about tables and chairs). I don’t think I saw one guy hit the dance floor, just bouncing bundles of broads.
If you don’t care for the band du jour, there is Keno and tons of televisions including a dandy big screen at one end of the place. During big games and band breaks, the sound goes up on the television. This is a great idea, as Mickey Redmond can whip an Allen Park crowd into a frenzy. There is also a separate game room with pool tables, video games and pinball.
Although there is never any eating on Bug Juice Friday Nights ( Tony has always contended that food only slows him down), B Boomers is a good place to chow. I can vouch for their deep dish pizzas. There is nothing subtle about this pile of spicy fun. It is heavy.
B Boomers is certainly not a big destination spot, but if you happen to be a baraholic, it can turn a shite night right side up.
Cheers!
-Jim
B. Boomer's: 16006 Southfield Rd. Allen Park, MI 48101
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