Man Wants White, Gets Black (On Location)

Raul Kemp
Reporter

This happened.

Tonight I headed down to the Melrose Pool Hall to drink some beers and watch Johnny Neel and the New Situation play some songs. Every time I go to this place, I have a small gimmer of hope that I might run into local rock mega bad ass Jack White. It's well known around town that he likes to hang out at this little dive, and I'd love to ask him who the Milk Man is. I figure this may be my best chance to run into my hero, even though rock stars pop up around every corner in this town.

 During the set break, I looked over and saw a familiar face. I asked a friend, "Is that the Black Keys drummer? Or just another East Nashvillian who came across the river with his Steve Urkell glasses and his grandfather's old hat to shoot some pool in the coolest hang in all of town, East or West?" Word on the street was that they had played a show at the Springwater, the other shadiest bar in town, for a video shoot earlier today. Could it be he just needed a little bit more of the common man?  Turns out, yes, it was a Black Key, the drummer I think.

I watched him linger around and then I went back to watching the show, until the night's first call from nature came. An urgent call, one I had been avoiding for as long as I could. As I did the business in the one-seater with the door locked, I heard the line beginning to form outside and the waiters starting to get impatient. I realized this was taking an extra long time, and made a note that I would apologize to whomever was next in line for the extreme duration of my relief. As I hastily skipped the hand wash, I opened the door, and who was standing there but that really tall lanky famous Black Key. As I promised myself I would, I said to him, "Sorry dude, you just waited on the world's longest pee." He shrugged and murmured.

Fast forward, an hour. In enjoying the show thoroughly, I had procrastinated my functions to red alert once again. When I arrived at the watering hole, there was no line, but shortly thereafter, another line stander pulled on the locked door. When I finally finished, I swiftly opened the door only to find the same damned drummer standing there, leaning on one long jangly leg and biting his lip. I erupted with a "HA" and told him, "Sucks we're on the same pee schedule. I'm settin' records tonight." He chuckled, said "Yeah", and rushed inside.

Upon my subsequent return to the can, I saw my pee pal exiting, clearly relieved he had beaten me to the flush finally. We did lock eyes though, and that eye lock said it all.