club deuce

Each of the 32 stools around the pink linoleum bar at the Deuce has a good vantage point, because of the mirrors , but there are preferred seats. Miami Vice neon wraps around the ceiling with an ambiguous woman, possibly a mermaid, lying on her stomach. The locals sit at the smaller horseshoe, the small side, with their backs to the mirrors. That is if they get there early. If you drink at the Deuce long enough, something interesting is bound to happen. Hash Ash says it is like watching TV and changing the channel every 20 minutes. And it could be dead, just two or three customers, and sure enough 20 minutes later the bar could be full and raucous. The jukebox includes a range from Johnny Cash to top ten Hip Hop, Dinah Washington, Patsy Cline, The Cure, Sugar Hill Gang, Squeeze, Spearhead, Sex Pistols. There are swing songs, and of course the regular bar fluff; that’s what the nonregulars play. The Deucers know how to find just the right music from the right era. Sometimes the entire bar sings Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.” And sometimes the patrons do the wave or pound the bar in time to “Dueling Banjos”; and sometimes there are birthday parties, anniversary parties, bachelor and bachelorette parties, but there are no reservations, no one can close the bar; everyone is welcome to celebrate. Commercials, movies, and MTV scenes are shot there: lots of print ads, with models playing pool, or dancing in front of the bright jukebox. Mac will let anyone film there, as long as the bar can stay open and the patrons can come in. The Deucers have little in common with one another; they range from homeless guys to dotcommer millionaires, from actors, and models, to school teachers and construction workers, from down and out artists, con artists, to doctors, lawyers, drug dealers. The one thing the Deucers do have in common is that they know how to get their drink on. Often. Regularly. Most of them shoot pool and nearly all of them can shoot the breeze. Because it is Miami Beach, there are American tourists, on their way to or from South America, going on cruises, lots of Europeans to stir into the mix. No guidebook ignores Mac’s Club Deuce. Actors, singers, musicians sometimes stop by, but more it is the writers and journalists who hang out at the Deuce, trying to capture the real Miami Beach. Mac’s Club Deuce is simply a locals’ bar, but in Miami Beach all the locals are locos. The Deuce wins awards every year – Miami’s Best Dive Bar, or Best Juke Box, Strongest Drinks. Late night at the Deuce is nuts: there are transvestites, transsexuals, a hermaphrodite, pimps, hookers, UM students with fake IDs, bikers, insomniacal old men, dirty old men, models, astounded tourists griping about a four dollar domestic beer, and club kids drinking bottled water while they are spaced out on their X and dancing, spinning around, bumping into the pool players. And the bartenders – they take the tender out of bartender. Go to the Deuce for strong drinks and conversation. Don’t rely on the bartenders to lend you a sympathetic ear. You earn your way to the small side of the bar; it can take ages and some people will never get there.