He loves Velvet Elvis, where patrons sit in a cavern of twinkling, colored Christmas lights until about 10p.m., when a band mounts the stage. Then tables are pushed back for dancing. Velvet Elvis was modeled on The Cavern, the dive in Liverpool, England, where the young Beatles played. But behind this bar is an Elvis shrine, with photos chronicling The King from baby to Vegas headliner. 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.