Good ol' boys and girls aplenty at D's Place

Bill Blade, Contributor, Jakarta

I've always been really into the Southern states of the U.S., you know, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, those sorts of places. Places where that long, straight, dusty road leading off through a tunnel of gnarled boughs and swaying Spanish moss could be an invitation to an evening of civilized banter in a pristine antebellum mansion, or a night fraught with unspeakable violence and terrors.

Or at least that's what Hollywood's dream machine (or in the case of the Deep South, horror machine), would have us believe.

According to the good burghers of Beverly Hills, this is a timeless land full of skeletons in the cupboard, passionate, forbidden love and, my favorite part, sleazy honky-tonks. Yes, those clapped together dives densely populated by Burt Reynolds- and Jackie Gleason-type characters, where the whiskey and the women flow freely, and a barroom brawl is only minutes away at any given time.

But what's all this got to do with Jakarta, I hear the beastly editor muttering darkly? Well, the fact is that in a month spent traversing the Southern states, mostly on the interstates, I never actually managed to find a real live honky-tonk (although I did once accidentally stray into a Vietnamese bordello in Galveston, Texas, that looked a bit like the honky-tonk of my dreams).

After having given up on ever spending an evening of living dangerously listening to Johnny Cash and surrounded by buxom barmaids with enticing Southern accents, it came as something of a shock recently to discover D's Place, an almost original-of-the-species, state-of-the-art honky-tonk lurking pugnaciously right here in Jakarta's Blok M like some feisty, red-blooded Texas steer about to kick you in the guts.

And ah do declayah, there were buxom barmaids aplenty and they even had Southern accents, if you count South Jakarta as being Southern, that is!

Hours: 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. seven days a week.

What's it got?: Well, you don't come to a honky-tonk to listen to Mozart, or techno for that matter. Country is king here, and if you don't appreciate the heartrending ditties of Johnny Cash or Waylon Jennings, you might as well give it up as a bad job!

As with any true honky-tonk, the pool tables are a major center of attention here, while regular prize draws are held to keep the ladies amused.

Bill, please: Happy hour is from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m. when all ice-cold draft beers are going for a snip at Rp 11,000. If you don't make it on time, then a glass of Bintang, Carlsberg or Angker draft will set you back Rp 15,000, while a 330 ml bottle of Carlsberg will hit you for Rp 17,500.

Meanwhile, a Johnnie Walker Black will knock you for Rp 30,000 while a Jameson Irish is to be had for Rp 27,000 (all prices exclude 10 percent tax and 5 percent service).

Here's lookin' at you: D's Place actually occupies two floors, both of which are virtual carbon copies of each other with a big, long bar wrapped around two walls while comfy lounge sofas dominate another. There's also a few high, stand-up tables in the middle of the floor. But, all in all, there's lots of space, and so there should be given the crowds there on the Tuesday night of my visit. Hard to imagine what Friday or Saturday night could be like. Not for the claustrophobic, one would imagine.

But the decor's pretty sparse and so, for many punters in D's Place, one of the main attractions seems to be the exotically attired barmaids (replete with Stetson hats). Not surprising really as they do seem to be genuinely good fun. And they certainly seem to know the ropes when it comes to the bar trade for the glasses are kept filled and the ashtrays emptied promptly and efficiently.

Looking around D's Place, however, one can't help being reminded, to a certain extent, of certain types of farmyard frolics. In truth, many of the "good ol' boys" (virtually all Westerners) look for all the world like roosters of the Foghorn Leghorn variety as they prance around crowing, hooting and guffawing at the tops of their voices.

All part of the effort, no doubt, to impress the extensive flocks of local "chickadees".

Verdict: Well, as I've made pretty clear, I love honky-tonks in the movies, and now that I've tried out the nearest thing you're likely to get to a real one in Jakarta, I think I can safely say I like them in the flesh too. So if you dig country, come to life in a sweaty, heaving atmosphere, and fancy yourself as a bit of a Jackie Gleason or Boss Hog, then there's nothing else for it but to "git yuh ass on down to D's Place". But be warned -- this isn't a bar for the faint-hearted when it comes to the drinking game, or the mating game either!