At Beamers, It Don't Matter If You're Black Or White.

In our continued quest to explore the unknown areas of Dallas nightlife, I found myself at Beamers this weekend. It had been described to me as “the hot black club of the moment” in Dallas — and indeed, that's what I found.

But, more than that, if their Facebook follower count and programming history were anything to go by, it's more than that: Beamers is one of the city's top places to be.

I'll admit it: Going in, I some trepidation. I'm an SMU girl with really no place in a club catering to black people and the hip-hop market.

I couldn't name a single Biggie song if my life depended on it.

But for the sake of journalism and the slow deflation of my personal comfort bubble, I prepared to check it out.

Word on the street was that Beamers has a popular happy hour and buffet every Thursday and Friday nigh. Because buffets-cum_clubs are a rather rare phenomena outside of the strip club circuit, my friends and I decided to start our night toward the end of happy hour slot, at right around 7:30 p.m. Unfortunately, a few wrong turns (sorry, most everything north of NorthPark just confuses me) delayed us half an hour, and we walked in minutes before the clock struck 8, meaning our drink prices rose from $2 to $4, and the food I had so eagerly anticipated had been stored away.

Oh well. The place it self was impressive alone without the food.

The first thing you notice about Beamers is the scale: The place is huge, shockingly so, and the main dance floor boasts a screen above it that seems to rival the famed Cowboys Stadium video screen in size.

The second thing you notice? Beamers is, like, crazy nice. For a club in the middle of a strip mall located near the infamous “sketchy towing place,” Beamers is remarkably plush. Two sides of the downstairs room are lined by well-kept pool tables, the multiple bars are roomy and dramatically lit, and, to top it off, there are several absolutely gigantic, glittering chandeliers.

Really, the crowd is the last thing you notice. At 8 o'clock on a Friday, the place was at about half-capacity — a lot considering how big Beamers it is.

By 10, it was already looking around three-fourths full.

And not only was the crowd sizable early on, but these people were going off. The DJs at the head of the dance floor were spinning a mix of old-school hip-hop, R&B, and black-centric pop (Michael Jackson, Prince, Whitney Houston, etc.), with a few new hits thrown in for good measure. In short, the music was awesome. And the dancefloor was packed with people dancing off the week's worries while people in the adjacent sitting section ate them away. And, trust me, their heaping plates of friend chicken, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and fluffy biscuits looked good. I was ridiculously jealous.

Upstairs offered a different vibe — a more relaxed one, as nearly every foot of floor space here featured a table or a booth or some sort of cushy leather lounge. A wall comprised entirely of glass windows overlooked the frenetic dance floor below; sipping gingerly on some colorful cocktails while checking out the dancing set from this perch may be among the best people-watching experiences in all of Dallas.

This people-watching was especially exciting here, too, considering that Beamers couldn't be further from an Uptown girl like me's “usual” crowd. Yes, I stood out like a sore thumb — but I never found this to my disadvantage.

I had been worried about my “outsider” status here — I think I was one of three white girls in the entire place — but it turned out my reservations were completely misplaced. Sure, I got several inquisitive looks, but there was no malice here.

Everyone just wanted to have a good time.

A couple of hours into the night, the place started to fill up even more. Meanwhile I decided to head for home lest I start consuming too many drinks to drive. I've been to that neighborhood tow lot by Beamers one too many times before.

I'll be back to Beamers though, and some time soon — this time with a big group in tow. Probably for my next off-the-wall birthday party.

This time, though, I will make that buffet. Mark my words.

602_2

602_3

602_4

602_5

602_6

602_7

602_8

602_9

602_10

602_11

602_12

602_13

602_14

602_15

602_16

602_17

602_18

602_19

602_20

602_21

602_22

602_23

602_24

602_25

602_26

602_27

602_28

602_29

602_30

602_31

602_32

602_33

602_34

602_35

602_36

602_37

602_38

602_39

602_40

602_41

602_42

602_43

602_44

602_45

602_46

602_47

602_48

602_49

602_50

No more articles