There was a lot of gambling in those days.

Maybe getting $5 a night from a greenhorn doesn’t seem like much, but you multiply that 100 or 200 times, (some clubs had 500 people through every day of the week), and that adds up to a lot of cash. Solid US dollars.

Fortunately, the gambling was jumped on and banned from the grid leaving the real residents (as opposed to the rip-off merchants) cheering with relief.

But you can still find clubs of course. Good clubs, clubs for dancing, clubs where like-minded people gather for their favourite music and friendly chat.

Phat Cat’s Jazz Club is such a place.

At Phat’s you must observe the Dress Code and behave accordingly or you won’t even get a foot in the door. So, best togs on! That means formal gowns for the ladies and evening wear, or tuxedos, for the gentlemen.

Sometimes I’m able to get away from the nervy brides and fretting grooms to relax a little myself. Off I go to Phat’s and have a little slow swing dance or just sit and listen to the music of the Dorseys, Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald.

The photo is of Phat Cat’s popular hostess and hot-jazz trumpet player. Twinkle Littlething.

Slurl : Phat Cat’s Jazz Club