So: Jason Whitlock, Kansas City’s very own racially incendiary columnist, is a good dresser. He’d like you to know that up front. What he’ll also tell you is that he is not a fan of the Power And/Or Light District, whose judgeandjury bouncers see fit to keep J-Dub and his friends out of something called “Shark Bar” based simply on what the group is wearing. And what would that be? Oh, he’s more than happy to provide details.
I had on custom-made, black linen, crepe-weave shorts with a matching Tommy Bahama-style button-up shirt, black dress sandals and a black Kangol hat. I’ve worn the exact outfit or one similar to the best restaurants and clubs in Vegas, New York, Los Angeles, Miami and Kansas City.
Whoa! Check out Mr. Fancy Pants! Now, I’ll admit I have no idea what “crepe-weave shorts” are — quite frankly, they sound fictitious — but I guess I can accept Whitlock’s supposition that if they’re good enough for Vegas, then they’re good enough for KC. (Particularly if one adds a sweet Kangol hat.) The problem here is that the outfit somehow wasn’t good enough for those snobby elitists at the SB, who tried to turn the group away until one member dropped the usual blah-blah-do-you-know-who-we-are business. So that’s it, right? End of story? Ha, no. Because it wouldn’t be a Whitlock column without a subtle dig at we Anglo-Saxons.
Once inside, we discovered all three of us were inappropriately dressed. We looked far too professional and classy. Seriously. That is not arrogance. The young, mostly white people inside the club dressed the way we did when we were young and financially strapped.
Ahem. First, let me note that one wearing “crepe-weave shorts” might not necessarily look “far too professional and classy.” Short-pants hardly imply such a thing. Second, exactly what were these fair-skinned vagabonds wearing? Cutoffs? Farm clothes? Color me confused. Either way, this column is pretty much Whitlock As Usual: small potatoes incident, gigantic extrapolation, lame attempt at larger societal comment, semi-wistful conclusion. Nothing new under the sun, eh, Jason?