THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, July 31, 1996 TAG: 9607310420
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JUNE ARNEY AND ED MILLER, STAFF WRITERS
DATELINE: CHESAPEAKE LENGTH: 130 lines
The regulars gathered as usual Monday night to play cards, shoot pool, watch big-screen TV and dance at Ridley's Restaurant and Lounge.
The mood was relaxed on this evening at the popular South Norfolk night spot, where four days earlier a brawl resulted in a felony charge against Joe Smith of the Golden State Warriors, a local hero turned national sports celebrity.
Smith, 21, was charged with malicious wounding. Smith, through his lawyer, has denied the charge. He will be arraigned in General District Court today.
Monday night was the first time since the incident that male dancers performed at the club. By 11:30, it was business as usual for the dancers - some with nicknames like ``Thumper'' and ``Love Sexy'' - and their female admirers.
But in the hours before the dancers took the stage, the club seemed an unlikely setting for such exotic entertainment.
Ridley's is the kind of place where working-class neighbors - many middle-aged - gather every Monday to play bid whist and spades, and to slap high fives over the table when things go their way. There is no money exchanged, just conversation and some serious card-playing. In the background, music alternates between jazz and rhythm and blues.
What happened in the early morning hours last Friday is unusual, the regulars say. It's a place where nearly everyone knows everyone else. The clientele is almost exclusively black.
Smith had been in the club just a few times, all in the past few months, after the NBA season ended, an employee at the club said.
These days, the former Chesapeake policeman who manages Ridley's gets calls from ESPN and media from as far away as San Francisco.
Manager Mac Ridley said he was surprised by the charge against Smith.
``He's a class act,'' Ridley said. ``He's a gentleman. I can see him becoming a Magic Johnson or Julius Erving. . . . I think the truth will come out.''
Several patrons there Monday, who had been among the 200 to 250 present when the incident occurred, were willing to talk about what happened that night. They all said they didn't see Smith do anything wrong.
``I doubt Joe Smith threw anything,'' said Fanita Pendleton, 25, a club regular. ``But he got to learn early, you got to watch who you keep company with. . . . Regardless of whether he did anything or not, he's going to be blamed for the whole thing. . . . If he's smart, he'll learn from it.''
When Smith walked into the club Thursday with six or eight friends, he got the kind of reception one would expect a professional basketball star to receive.
It was ladies' night, but the disc jockey took a break from spinning songs for the male dancers onstage to announce that Smith was ``in the house,'' patrons said.
He motioned for Smith to come say a few words.
Smith took the microphone and told the crowd he was there to celebrate his 21st birthday. One patron quoted Smith as saying, ``At 12 o'clock, I want the floor.'' At Ridley's on Thursdays, the floor belongs to the dancers, until at least about 12:30.
Joe Smith, hometown hero, was booed.
And things went downhill from there.
``I think he just wanted to show to his boys that he hadn't changed,'' said 23-year-old Towanda Robinson, another regular. ``I think he wanted to celebrate his birthday with the people he'd known the longest and best.''
As the male dancers performed, Pendleton and Robinson said they saw members of Smith's crowd throw a black plastic ash tray, then a plastic catsup bottle and later a bottle of beer.
The male dance show ended and the tension seemed to have passed. But the dancers felt like they had been disrespected. Robinson said one asked: ``Who threw the stuff at us?''
``They went walking up to someone and his eight friends with an attitude,'' Robinson said. ``They weren't going up to chitchat. . . . I think they may have gone up there for an apology.''
Meanwhile, Smith and his friends had already started dancing, they said.
Shortly before 1 a.m., the fight broke out, and left dancer Carlton Coney with a gash between his shoulder blades that required 22 stitches.
Pendleton and Robinson said they don't know who struck Coney.
The Virginia Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control is now making inquiries into recent events at Ridley's but has launched no formal investigation, according to spokesman Robert Chapman. Last November, the club's license was suspended for 20 days and it was fined $1,000 for seven violations, such as improper record-keeping and failing to meet the state food-beverage ratio.
Ridley's is a spacious club with seating for 300. Running lights in green, red, yellow and white move along the top of the walls, making everything seem fluid. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lead to the dance floor and wrap around behind it. In front of the dance floor are tables topped with cream-colored tablecloths.
Regulars like Pendleton and Robinson sit at tables pulled extra close to the rails near the dance floor. The two said they show up every Monday, Thursday and Saturday.
In another room, a crowd shot pool on Monday. A few sat at the bar watching wrestling, and later the Olympics.
On Mondays and Thursdays, the club features male dancers, with female dancers on the bill Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is the after-work party. Saturday features a ``lady-in-black'' contest, and Sunday is oldies-but-goodies night. Mondays are considered game night, when people play cards, chess and sometimes checkers. During football season, there is a regular Monday night game crowd.
The free buffet often includes fried chicken wings, baked fish, greens and macaroni and cheese. The club's cover charge ranges from $2 to $7, depending on the night and the time.
Ridley's is a place for good-natured banter. A woman playing bid whist complained to the manager when she didn't like what was on TV: ``Mac, can't we turn on the Olympics? Wrestling will be on next week.''
``OK, baby,'' came his reply.
And it was done. One patron wasn't happy about it. He was watching the sweaty, long-haired wrestlers. But between the manager and the women, they sweet-talked him. And the night turned smooth again.
Later, there were cheers for Michael Johnson as he took his victory lap carrying the American flag after winning the 400 meters. Later still, the crowd applauded another American gold medalist, long jumper Carl Lewis.
By 11:20 p.m., not long before the male dancers arrived, a few card players headed for the stage - lured by the latest version of the Electric Slide, a dance the regulars call the ``Bus Stop.'' A few patrons did their own version in the aisles.
But after the line dance, it was back to cards. The card players barely seemed to notice when scantily clad men took to the stage, gyrating, undulating, thrusting to the music.
The women who filled the seats by the railing waited anxiously for muscle-bound dancers. In exchange for bills tucked into satin pouches, the dancers danced close enough to touch.
First up was a dancer called Juice. He did a flip, landing feet-up against the mirror at the rear of the stage. After another dancer completed his act, a chant began. The crowd wanted ``Love Sexy.''
He took the stage: Black boots, tight black pants, dark glasses, and a top, trimmed with gold, that accentuated his broad shoulders. He was pure energy, sliding across the floor, then erupting into flips and handstands.
The card players kept playing. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by HUY NGUYEN, The Virginian-Pilot
Ridley's by CNB