Ok. So here are the field notes from an observation excercise that I had to do for my qualitative methods class. It was actually kinda fun. Enjoy!
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Field notes
I enter the large building where I’m stopped at the door and asked for two forms of identification. The doorman takes my out of state ID and twists and turns it in the light looking for some sort of authentification feature. He hands them back and I proceed to the counter where a man requests five dollars while a young woman stamps the back of my hand with a purple stamp.
As I enter I notice that there is already a large line for the piano bar. I turn the corner and step into a large room lit with pulsating lights, tables that ring a dance floor and several bars placed on each of the four walls of the room. Some of the bars are nestled into corners while others run the full length of the room. Neon signs advertising liquor are lit behind the bars. Individuals who are lucky enough to have grabbed a table cling to them. The dance floor sits in the center of room. It’s empty at 10. People are currently clustered around the bars. Loud top 40 and dance music blares from large speakers sitting in the corners of the dance floor.
I walk to the far end of the room and situate myself under a large projection television. Throughout the bar there are several other televisions, although none as large as the one under which I currently sit. Most of them show the winter Olympics which is currently featuring figure skating. Three girls stand near the table on which I am writing and one inquires as to what I’m doing. When I tell her I’m a communications grad student working on a qualitative methods project she tells me that she is a senior undergrad in communications and has taken the undergrad equivalent. We discuss this, hockey, and the Midwest before she loses interest and wanders back to her friends.
Tonight they’re running a promotion which I’m later to learn is for Captain Morgan. Skimpily dressed girls in miniskirts gather near the table I’m at and prepare the beads that they’ll give out for the promotion. When a new girl comes to join them they rush to her and give her a hug. They’re dancing slightly, swaying to the music. A waitress comes around and checks the tables. People at the tables are segregated by men and women. Men seem to be sitting on one side of the table while women sit on the other. There is not much interspersion. As they talk people lean into one another so that they can hear one another speak over the loud music.
I get up from my vantage point and decide to wander. People flow like trains, following one another closely through the bar so they will not lose one another. Some girls have their hands linked. There are several guys sitting at the table next to the one I just left. They’re wearing buttoned checked shirts, fleeces, and baseball caps. One says something to another who shields his eyes and shakes his head. Some of the girls working the promotion start coming around to the table putting beads over the heads of some of the men like they are leis.
The dance floor now has a few dancers. Girls dance with girls while some guy is dancing St. Vitus’ dance on the floor. He stops and approaches the railing to speak to some girl. He then seems to dance for her. The tables that ring the dance floor are all staked out by this point. There are not many people currently standing. I’m finding it difficult to follow just one person due to the frenetic pace people are moving about the bar. The place is quite large. A guy at the pool tables greets two other men and they engage in an elaborate handshake, a cross between giving five and shaking hands. There is a girl at the bar that is surrounded by guys. As they discuss something she gives one of them a high five. The men are leaning into her and one speaks animatedly, gesturing wildly as he describes something. Many of the girls seem to be wearing halter tops or form fitting clothing.
Lindsey finds me and tells me that there is guy messing with her and has been hitting her in the face. I ask her if it was hard and she tells me it doesn’t matter you shouldn’t hit girls. The guy comes over to us at the railing to the dance floor and apologizes. He shakes hands with Lindsey and her friends and leans in to hear her as he apologizes. He has a thin line of a beard that runs from ear to ear that makes me think of Vanilla Ice in his later years. He has multiple piercing and wears a West Coast chopper cap and a shirt that looks like a work shirt except with the tale tell polo insignia on the chest. He hangs all over another girl that wears an aeropostale shirt. Are they together?
He begins talking animatedly with Lindsey and her friend Ashley. I can hear over the music him shouting “Is he cool? Is he cool?” The two girls have to vouch for me as if I’m some sort of narc. Was he alarmed by my note taking or was he trying to watch out for the two girls as he claimed? Funny behavior if he had been assaulting Lindsey earlier. He introduces himself as Zach extending a tattooed arm and almost immediately lets me know that he’s been to prison. The way he says it reminds me of name dropping. He claims that he has been banned from this bar for the past three years.
I find my friend Vicky. She’s standing watching an almost empty table covetously. “I want that table” she tells me. When it clears out she jumps on the table immediately.
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Field notes
I enter the large building where I’m stopped at the door and asked for two forms of identification. The doorman takes my out of state ID and twists and turns it in the light looking for some sort of authentification feature. He hands them back and I proceed to the counter where a man requests five dollars while a young woman stamps the back of my hand with a purple stamp.
As I enter I notice that there is already a large line for the piano bar. I turn the corner and step into a large room lit with pulsating lights, tables that ring a dance floor and several bars placed on each of the four walls of the room. Some of the bars are nestled into corners while others run the full length of the room. Neon signs advertising liquor are lit behind the bars. Individuals who are lucky enough to have grabbed a table cling to them. The dance floor sits in the center of room. It’s empty at 10. People are currently clustered around the bars. Loud top 40 and dance music blares from large speakers sitting in the corners of the dance floor.
I walk to the far end of the room and situate myself under a large projection television. Throughout the bar there are several other televisions, although none as large as the one under which I currently sit. Most of them show the winter Olympics which is currently featuring figure skating. Three girls stand near the table on which I am writing and one inquires as to what I’m doing. When I tell her I’m a communications grad student working on a qualitative methods project she tells me that she is a senior undergrad in communications and has taken the undergrad equivalent. We discuss this, hockey, and the Midwest before she loses interest and wanders back to her friends.
Tonight they’re running a promotion which I’m later to learn is for Captain Morgan. Skimpily dressed girls in miniskirts gather near the table I’m at and prepare the beads that they’ll give out for the promotion. When a new girl comes to join them they rush to her and give her a hug. They’re dancing slightly, swaying to the music. A waitress comes around and checks the tables. People at the tables are segregated by men and women. Men seem to be sitting on one side of the table while women sit on the other. There is not much interspersion. As they talk people lean into one another so that they can hear one another speak over the loud music.
I get up from my vantage point and decide to wander. People flow like trains, following one another closely through the bar so they will not lose one another. Some girls have their hands linked. There are several guys sitting at the table next to the one I just left. They’re wearing buttoned checked shirts, fleeces, and baseball caps. One says something to another who shields his eyes and shakes his head. Some of the girls working the promotion start coming around to the table putting beads over the heads of some of the men like they are leis.
The dance floor now has a few dancers. Girls dance with girls while some guy is dancing St. Vitus’ dance on the floor. He stops and approaches the railing to speak to some girl. He then seems to dance for her. The tables that ring the dance floor are all staked out by this point. There are not many people currently standing. I’m finding it difficult to follow just one person due to the frenetic pace people are moving about the bar. The place is quite large. A guy at the pool tables greets two other men and they engage in an elaborate handshake, a cross between giving five and shaking hands. There is a girl at the bar that is surrounded by guys. As they discuss something she gives one of them a high five. The men are leaning into her and one speaks animatedly, gesturing wildly as he describes something. Many of the girls seem to be wearing halter tops or form fitting clothing.
Lindsey finds me and tells me that there is guy messing with her and has been hitting her in the face. I ask her if it was hard and she tells me it doesn’t matter you shouldn’t hit girls. The guy comes over to us at the railing to the dance floor and apologizes. He shakes hands with Lindsey and her friends and leans in to hear her as he apologizes. He has a thin line of a beard that runs from ear to ear that makes me think of Vanilla Ice in his later years. He has multiple piercing and wears a West Coast chopper cap and a shirt that looks like a work shirt except with the tale tell polo insignia on the chest. He hangs all over another girl that wears an aeropostale shirt. Are they together?
He begins talking animatedly with Lindsey and her friend Ashley. I can hear over the music him shouting “Is he cool? Is he cool?” The two girls have to vouch for me as if I’m some sort of narc. Was he alarmed by my note taking or was he trying to watch out for the two girls as he claimed? Funny behavior if he had been assaulting Lindsey earlier. He introduces himself as Zach extending a tattooed arm and almost immediately lets me know that he’s been to prison. The way he says it reminds me of name dropping. He claims that he has been banned from this bar for the past three years.
I find my friend Vicky. She’s standing watching an almost empty table covetously. “I want that table” she tells me. When it clears out she jumps on the table immediately.
