Spanky’s Hangout Fits Well on Storied Corner of Central Avenue

After being a skeptic-turned-lush for dive bars around Charlotte, it’s rare I have had one of those “on a first date, kinda nervous” moments walking into one for the first time. Yet, somehow, I found myself adjusting my leggings and butt cheeks to get spanked at Spanky’s Hangout on Central Avenue in Plaza Midwood.

For years, I watched the parking lot wedged between Skylark Social Club and Midwood Country Club fluctuate between completely full and barely there, depending on the era, the virus and the vibe. I witnessed regulars hovering in that in-between space like divorced parents choosing custody, squinting toward whichever one felt less like betrayal.

There was a hierarchy: a comfort and a backup plan.

I could visibly see the question marks swirling as Skylark familiars lingered about, curious if it was open as they settled into the sobering reality that there was only one other option as they turned toward the entrance of MCC, knowing it wasn’t the worst decision, while fully acknowledging that at least it wasn’t the end of the night.

I remembered the feeling as I watched with what was a half-smile in the moment, recalling how on my first visit to MCC on a day-drinking tour of the neighborhood my crew got turned away because we were too early … then looked toward Skylark as a potential last resort and in the end were welcome with open arms.

Months later, well after Skylark shut down and the Spanky’s signage took over, IG posts flooded the soon-to-be “spank-your-liver” hangout’s account promising an opening.

The boo and I observed in anticipation, wondering if this was simply a rebranding, a “land grab” or a promising new watering hole that felt just as at home as the living room next door.

And here we were, a month-ish into Spanky’s residency, millennial judgey, as if we had any right to poke our noses into the glory hole that had popped in next door to Midwood CC.

Kudos to boo ordering a “respected” dive bar staple, while I was requesting a “Pinot Grigio or Sauv Blanc.” *insert eye roll to myself* Our total tab was ~$14.50, based on memory, but don’t fact-check me on that!

In true dive fashion, the bartender had no Fs to give. Respect. Also, just coming off a dive tour in NYC where “white wine” was an unspoken given versus a Southern anti-gospel, I’d expect nothing less.

The smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air, helping anyone forget about the bar that took up space inside the same four walls prior. The debauchery that spilled from one bar into Central Ave. or the long-standing establishment next door.

The 24-bun party pack of “pre-dog-stuffed” glizzies everyone’s grubby hands reached into after day drinking or the live music that was missed from corners of Amos’ Southend and Double Door. All of it felt acknowledged but not embalmed.

The interior still speaks to everything that was, while also screaming “polished without being pretentious.” From the updated, Nokia-style “snake game” bar complete with epoxied retro collective stickers to the photo booth, pinball and foosball table, Spanky’s begged me to ask all the questions.

But after following their IG, and then being served by the tall, tattooed bartender, I knew this was a new kid on the block I’d ask nothing from.

The chaos of Canva-adjacent posts with no context were mirrored inside the curious hub of a solidly neon-lit bar for the fairly blind, thick-glasses wearer that is Spanky’s. It asks the average Joe to define it without the question, which I fully co-sign.

My takeaway: It’s not your stereotypical cursed corner. The ‘hood survives an era, and thank God it ain’t doing what the rest of Charlotte is doing. I’ll take another spanking.

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