Patrick Scott Barnes' self-published book "Three Orlando Nightspots" - free .pdf version

1. Three Orlando Nightspots
by
Patrick Scott Barnes

2. All rights reserved. Unless using for articles or reviews, no part of this book may be used without
permission from the author/photographer.
Facebook page: Patrick Scott Barnes
Website: Patrickscottbarnes.com
Instagram: stonecrazy89
Email: Patrickbarne@gmail.com
Copies available on Amazon.com.
ISBN-13: 978-1976599798
ISBN-10: 1976599792
Copyright © 2017 Patrick Scott Barnes

3. Dedicated to Pedro Vazquez, King Bob and Joe Romain.
Yet, a special shout out to Joe Romain for suggesting I include poetry in this book.

4. Table of Contents
Introduction…………………………………………………………………………………Page 5
1. 64 North………………………………….……………………………………..….....…..Page 6
Poems
Double Whammy........................................................................................................................Page 8
A Photographer's Beginning.....................................................................................................Page 12
Alcohol-Induced Blackout........................................................................................................Page 16
2. The Patio………………………………………………………………………………..…Page 18
Poems
Booty Pic Requests...................................................................................................................Page 20
Ex-flame's Smiling Face...........................................................................................................Page 24
Picking on the Photo Guy.........................................................................................................Page 28
3. Aero………………………………………………………………………………………..Page 31
Poems
Choosing Race Over Beauty....................................................................................................Page 32
Wasting Talent.........................................................................................................................Page 36
Coughing Fits...........................................................................................................................Page 38
Foolish Reasons to Abuse Booze.............................................................................................Page 43

5. Introduction
For a while, I was the main photographer for three Downtown Orlando nightspots: Aero,
64 North and The Patio.
All three spots connect to one another. In 64 North, one would find a bar counter, a few
video games, a photo booth, a few tables and complimentary popcorn. Also, on the speakers, one
would hear music from The Patio.
The Patio plays mostly Top 40 music, including uncensored rap music containing the n-
word.
Speaking of rap music, The Patio contains a room called The Jungle Room. Here nothing
but hip hop plays.
Aero, an outdoor rooftop bar, plays electronic dance music (I still call it techno.)
All three spots are free entry. For a cheap mofo like me, “free entry” are beautiful words.
During my times photographing the three spots, I used to upload a few pics on Facebook. I
always uploaded pics of women. Except for the occasional funny pic, I cared about my women
photos the most. Because folks enjoyed them, I decided to produce a book containing my photos.
5

6. 1. 64 North
6

7. 7

8. 8
Double Whammy
Life pretty much sucks for me right now.
My mom died.
Suffered a stroke.
Was placed on life support.
Hospital told younger brother and me to pull the plug.
Said mom was not coming back.
Family members begged brother and me not to pull the plug.
Mom's nurse friend visited her.
Nurse friend later phone-called me.
Said my mom wasn't there anymore.
Nurse friend also told me to pull the plug.
Brother and I talked to a doctor one more time.
Actually, a brain surgeon.
Said the same thing.
Mom was brain-dead.
She wasn't coming back.
Finally, brother and I handed hospital permission to pull the plug.
Another tragic thing happened.
Favorite musician rode his Little Red Corvette up to Purple Heaven.
Talking about Prince.
Doves cried the day he died…including me.
My mom was the first introducing the household to Prince's music.
Both my mom and favorite musician died the same year.
Ain’t that some shit?
A double whammy.
Bad stuff doesn’t end there, either.
Car I’m driving may conk out at any time.
Transmission keeps slipping.
Also, I eventually will be booted from the house I live in.
Not enough money to continue paying the mortgage my mom left.
Another thing?
Broke up with a woman who I thought was conning me.
Yet, can’t erase her from my mind.
Last of all, still living in damned near poverty.
Might as well enjoy my camera…and the booze.

9. 9

10. 10

11. 11

12. 12
A Photographer's Beginning
A borrowed Minolta started it, a single lens reflex camera with manual focus.
The photographer adds their own flash to the camera.
I was hosting poetry readings at the time.
Wanted to use original images for flyers advertising the readings.
Reason why I decided to learn photography.
Fell in love in with photography.
Many times took more photos than I wrote poetry.
Fell in love with nightlife photography the most.
Read books about nightlife photography.
Through a friend, I found a monthly gig photographing fetish shows.
A part of security exchanged words with me at one of the fetish shows.
Found out he was a professional photographer.
Dude told me he watched me work.
Said I had an eye but lacked technique.
(Over the years, I brushed up on the technique.)
I soon eventually broke that borrowed Minolta.
(My apologies, Jim Criger.)
Broke it during a gig.
Yet, my passion for nightlife photography remained.

13. 13

14. 14

15. 15

16. 16
Alcohol-Induced Blackout
One week night at 64 North, a friend was celebrating his birthday.
He hired me for my photography services.
As I photographed, I downed shots and beer all night.
I remember the evening’s first half.
The second half of the evening?
I only remember bits and pieces.
On the drive home from 64 North, I found myself cruising through a neighborhood I didn’t
recognize.
Don’t even remember how I got there.
Don’t even remember the streets I turned to get there.
Yet, I managed to find the exit out of the neighborhood.
I remember the dream I later had that night about my ex.
Lying in bed screaming for her to come back.
Screaming I can’t live without her.
Rather forget that dream, but I remember it.
The next morning?
Saw photos on my camera I don’t remember taking.
Photos taken during the second half of the night.
Looked at my mobile phone.
Saw a selfie I don’t remember taking.
Me posing with a female bartender.
Had never spoken to her before.
Yet, there we were in a selfie cozying up to each other.
May I also add I might be old enough to be that girl’s father?
After that night, I tried laying off the booze.
Of course, that shit didn’t last long

17. 17

18. 18
2. The Patio

19. 19

20. 20
Booty Pic Requests
My first decade as a nightlife photographer?
Had to beg women to pose for booty pics.
Things done changed.
“I want my booty in the picture.”
How the hell do they know to ask me for a booty pic?
Don’t know a damned thing about me.
Never even met me before.
Not even friends on social media.
Yet, know to ask me for a booty pic.
Is this because I’m black?
Racial profiling?
Is this because they believe all black men appreciate the booty?
Everybody wants their booty in the picture.
Women of all races do.
“Make sure you include my ass.”
That was the Puerto Rican woman.
Many black women usually do a booty pose without even requesting a booty pic.
White women do the same thing…especially when they’re drunk.
Everybody wants their booty in the picture.
Ain’t this some shit?
Still, I ain’t complaining.

21. 21

22. 22

23. 23

24. 24
Ex-flame's Smiling Face
Sometimes, I wonder if my ex will ever show up during my nightspot photography gigs.
She did before.
Showed up with a female friend the day I broke up with her.
Previously, I ended our relationship through text message.
After that?
She kept sending me text messages over and over again.
Even left a voice-mail on my phone.
“Please, say this isn’t true. Please.”
I never answered back.
Her later showing up at my gig freaked the hell out of me.
Text messaged her.
Asked her was she stalking me.
Also, asked her to leave.
Broke up with her because I thought she was bullshitting me.
Thought her saying she loved me was a big fuckin’ lie.
I live alone.
Reason why I thought she was using me.
Thought she wanted to move in with me.
Doing this in order to leave a husband who is always absent from the house.
Dude’s job has him gone for months.
Plus ex said her husband and her hadn't been intimate in years.
Ex once told me she needed her own place to live.
Needed this during divorce proceedings.
Not once she mentioned moving in with me.
Even told me she wasn’t going to do that.
Also, told me she didn’t want me taking caring of her.
Said she could take of herself.
Yet, paranoia grabbed me anyway.
Realize I walked this scenario before.
Years ago, paranoia ruined another relationship.
Thought that woman was bullshitting me too.
I later wrote too many nasty poems about her.
Even wrote an evil play about her.

25. 25
Would be so happy if recent ex showed up at my photography gigs.
Her lovely smile always shined through dark stormy clouds.
Still do when I think about her.
After how I treated her?
Really shouldn’t expect to see her at my photography gigs.
Reason why I was with a married woman?
Always felt comfortable talking to her.
She never talked down to me.
Always complimented me.
I spent too many years dealing with folks pulling that talking-down-to-me-
shit.
Some still pull it.
Reason why I avoid them.
Been months since I saw my recent ex.
Always wondering how she’s doing.
I avoid asking her friends.
Don’t want that getting back to her.
I avoid stalking her Facebook page.
I avoid the bars we used to go to.
Trying everything to erase that smiling face from my mind.
The one that always shined through dark stormy clouds.
Still do when I think about her.

26. 26

27. 27

28. 28
Picking on the Photo Guy
Some claim I post pics of women online because I can’t attract them.
As if they know my life better than I do.
Some claim I’m just a sexist pig who objectifies women.
Am I not a heterosexual male?
Do not heterosexuals appreciate the opposite sex?
Am I supposed to keep my love of the female form to myself?
Locked away and hope nobody sees my love.
Or else holier-than-thou types pounce on me.
Am I at fault for women posing in ways causing Mommy and Daddy embarrassment?
Am I at fault for women posing in ways that may gain them unemployment when their photos
are found on social media?
Women always insisting I put their booty in the picture.
Women always hugging or kissing other women in the picture.
Sometimes doing both.
Yet, it’s my fault for photographing it.
Wrong for me to post the pic on social media.
Some female complainers probably picking the biggest assholes for boyfriends, husbands or fuck
buddies.
Some female complainers probably reading some of the most freakiest literature ever written.
Freaky literature hidden on their Amazon Kindles.
Some female complainers probably listening and defending white rappers who litter their lyrics
with the word “bitch”.
Some female complainers probably fans of green-eyed, light-skinned, African-American actors
who portray pimps
Pimps rapping about whooping that trick.
Whoop that trick!
Whoop that trick!
But oh no, let’s pick on the photo guy.

29. 29
.

30. 30

31. 31
3. Aero

32. 32
Choosing Race Over Beauty
Note to self.
Make sure you photograph a diversity of women.
Don’t need folks thinking you photograph one particular race only.
Personally, I believe any man choosing race over beauty is a god-damned
fool.
More important things concern me than race.
Honesty.
Significant other caring about other people.
Significant other sticking with you when things get rough.
Race last thing I’m concerned about.
Any man choosing race over beauty deserves living single forever.

33. 33

34. 34

35. 35

36. 36
Wasting Talent
Folks say it both about my poetry and photography.
“You’re wasting your talent.”
With poetry, folks say I write too much about booty.
Others complain about my photos of women.
When it comes to my poetry?
Guess what poems most people remember?
If you said booty; you might understand where I’m coming from.
Posted a blog containing pics of women.
Posted another blog containing pics of roses.
Which blog post do you think receives the most views?
Yep, you guessed it.
The women blog.
Don’t like my poetry?
Don’t read it.
When I read my poetry at open mics?
Leave the damned room.
Don’t like my photography?
Don’t look at it.
Not going to let criticism bother me.
Just going to brush the dirt off my shoulders and keep expressing myself.

37. 37

38. 38
Coughing Fits
I
Having a hard time walking up stairs.
Always giving out of breath when I walk upstairs to outdoor rooftop bars.
Always giving out of breath when I walk upstairs in downtown parking garages.
Had a nasty cold recently.
Thought it went away.
Yet, nasty cold returns.
Can’t sleep on my back.
Sleeping on my back causes coughing.
Soon the day arrives where I cough all day.
Coughing prevents me from sleeping.
.
Over-the-counter medications won’t stop coughing.
Still can’t sleep
.
Sleep is all I ask for.
Coughing continues.
Forced to make decision I had been avoiding, going to the hospital.
Driving myself to the emergency room.
And don’t have any damned money or insurance.
Reasons why I avoided going to the hospital in the first place.
Hospital finds pneumonia, high blood pressure, gout and high cholesterol.
II
Everyday eating nasty-tasting hospital food.
X-rays.
Texting one of the owners of the three nightspots I photograph.
Telling him I’m in the hospital, and may remain here for a long time.
Filling out financial assistance paperwork.
Visits from different specialists.
Visits from friends.
Visits from relatives.
“Dang, Pat,” one relative says. “I didn’t know you drink like that.”

39. 39
This after witnessing me telling doctor I drink booze four to five times a week.
Plus during these times, I consume up to six or more drinks.
Mostly beer.
"Now, Pat,” another relative says. “High blood pressure is what killed yo’ mama.
That's what caused her stroke.”
Facebook friends worrying when they see my posts and selfies.
Ex’s smiling face still haunting me, even after I finally closed that chapter in my
life.
Recently realized no telling when ex was divorcing her husband.
No telling if she ever would.
Told me excuses for why she couldn't divorce him in the past.
One of them was husband having two powerful lawyers.
If ex never divorced her husband?
Time would've been waisted waiting for her.
Finally, closing the chapter on her.
Yet, her smile still haunts me.
Needles drawing blood from my veins every night.
Sometimes, blood can’t be drawn.
Because of that, needles jabbing into my veins two and three more times for blood.
Stayed in hospital for a whole week.
After release?
Prescribed medication causing me serious drowsiness.
Ambulance drives me back to the hospital.
Another night of needles draining blood.
Another night of needles jabbing my veins two and three more times for blood.
Doctor reduces my medication.
Released again.
And hoping I’ll never ever see another fuckin’ hospital bed.

40. 40

41. 41

42. 42

43. 43
Foolish Reasons to Abuse Booze
Drunk booze for over two decades.
What do I have answer for it?
A week in the hospital because of bad health.
Abusing booze contributed to bad health.
Prescribed medications making me drowsy all the time, even after medications were reduced.
May forever remain on prescribed medications.
Good thing I can afford them.
Monthly visits to the clinic.
Had to change clinics.
The first two didn’t give me the care they promised.
Used booze for escapism.
Escaping depression.
Escaping stress.
Escaping poverty.
Escaping grief over the death of loved ones.
Escaping whatever else brought my spirits down.
After booze wore off?
Same old shitty feelings returned…with a painful hangover pounding inside my head.
Sometimes, shitty feelings returned worse than they were before.
Also, unsolved problems never went away.
Escapism caused by booze was always temporary.
Problems didn’t go anywhere.
Problems just waited for the booze to wear off.
Waited to annoy me again.
Thought I needed booze to boost courage.
Boosting enough courage to socialize.
Boosting enough courage to talk to women.
Boosting enough courage to ask folks can I photograph them.
Thought I needed booze to gain more creative and interesting nightlife photos.
Yet, as for the following sexy pic containing two young ladies?

44. 44
I took it sober.

45. 45

46. 46
About the Author/Photographer
Patrick Scott Barnes is a native of Sanford, Florida. For over a decade, he has photographed
Central Florida nightlife.
Most Central Floridians know Mr. Barnes as a poet. For seven years, he hosted Backroom
Words, a weekly open mic poetry reading.
He also opened for the following people: Author and scriptwriter Jerry Stahl, the legendary
Lydia Lunch and poet Beau Sia from the movies SlamNation and Slam.
Through CreateSpace, Mr. Barnes published two books: The Butt Freak Blues (a book of
poetry) and Photos from the Cell Phone.
Currently, Patrick Scott Barnes lives in Orlando.