Ray’s Latino Night in the back bar ended last night. It was not “the burning of Atlanta” some thought; it was more like the scorching of Hialeah. And for all their tough looks and gang hand gestures, they were really the softess bunch of pansies around; I got to know almost every one and found them caring and wonderful.

What were they? Loyal for one; if we asked them to dress in white and come on a Wednesday they did in unison. Well educated for another; most held professional jobs. And crazily sexy and good-looking, too. They knew how to have fun and even taught me a few things about that.

At the end of the night, many of them were crying and that was very moving for me. I thought I would lose it when one of them came up to me and said, “I thought we were supposed to support The Palace; why don't they support us?”. I tried to explain that all things change and that evolution is natural; I told them we would always stick together and move on to better things.

It didn’t matter; they still cried.


The last back bar body shot was hosted by the crazy Thomas Barker, who hosted the first. The sexy German, Mentos, got to feed off of his favorite.

David will always be a favorite.

This is a new favorite in town. He fit in quite nicely.

Mystery "women" were everywhere. They are favorites at any party.

There are the old favorites, of course.

And the new.

Even nice, Jewish boys got down and dirty.

It was the "happy place" of Officer Brian's memoirs. It still is.

Thank you, Ray, for an amazing five months in that back bar. You taught me something about loyalty I didn't think existed in this brazenly shallow town. Sure, you are a "favorite", but show me someone who doesn't value hard work, honesty, and loyalty and I will show you a fool. We all worked very hard, but in a strange way, I'm happy to have my Sunday nights back. Try a Friday next time......