Just doors away on Congress Street, you can hear The Zoo before you see it. Spiral stairs lead to a second floor and to techno bands and dancers in their teens. Friends of the ejectee said the man was simply protesting The Zoo's new Wednesday wet T-shirt contests as being baldly commercial and blatantly uncool. Like Velvet Elvis and The Zoo, it often showcases new Southern talent. Restaurants aimed at affluent tourists dot the block, but there are others beloved by cash-strapped rising stars.
Giant sandwiches cost the same.
Trattoria Rivazza's big neon trout shimmers above Congress Street in pink and blue. The complaint about Savannah nightlife is that it ends before dawn. There is one beautiful hangout that's always open. Against a backdrop of dark trees, Forsyth Park's enormous fountain is so luminously white that its stone seems carved from moonlight. At 3 a.m., a few youths lounged, laughing and chatting, on the benches circling the marble mer-man and goddesses.