As someone that’s driven from Charlotte to Atlanta (or vice versa) dozens of times, I’ve often been… intrigued by the dozens of billboards for Café Risque, a restaurant\strip club in the small town of Lavonia, Georgia. I guess this is because I have some kind of morbid curiosity about the place. Why do they have 30 billboards on each side of I-85 advertising the place? What kind of girls work at a strip club in Lavonia? Do they have all their teeth? What kind of food does a Lavonia-based strip club have on its buffet? Is it safe to eat?
In a way, it’s similar to the curiosity I used to have as a child about the “alligator farms” advertised along the interstates in northern Florida. I remember begging my mom to stop at one of those farms on several car trips to the Sunshine State. But she never would.
And it seems that I’ll never get my chance to visit Café Risque, either: the city of Lavonia purchased Café Risque in late July for $997,000, and plans to convert the property to a family-friendly restaurant.
You might not think the story of a strip club in a tiny Georgia town would be that interesting, but the tale of Café Risque is actually chock full of intrigue.
Back in 2001, a man named Jerry Sullivan approached city officials about building a family restaurant at the site. Sullivan told the city council that he was “building a Cracker Barrel-type restaurant, and [the restaurant would] make the best tomato gravy in the world”. He further told the council that the restaurant would be called “Skeeter’s Big Biscuits”. Sullivan then gave city officials a tour of the restaurant, which was in the final stages of construction. After the city council approved Sullivan’s business license, the smut peddler immediately set to work removing the booths, replacing the lunch counter with a bar, and even bricking up the windows. By 5am the morning after he got his business license, Sullivan had Café Risque open for business.
As you might guess, this infuriated city officials. They were, however, powerless to stop him, as the city had never passed any sort of law regulating adult entertainment venues, because (quite frankly) the issue had never come up before. The city launched a series of expensive lawsuits against Sullivan, which they almost always lost due to First Amendment concerns. In 2003, the city sued Sullivan again, and this time he agreed to stop selling alcohol… if the city would allow more nudity (which they grudgingly agreed to). In 2006, Café Risque was raided by local police, who seized a number of illegal poker machines. Sullivan sued the city, saying that the action violated his agreement with the city, which banned police officers from coming onto Sullivan’s property for any reason (QUESTION: how can I get that kind of deal?)
Jerry Sullivan died in 2006, but the club continued to operate. Earlier this year, a third-party informed the city that he had been approached by the mysterious new owners of the club, who were interested in selling. In complete secrecy, the city quietly used its emergency fund to pay off a bond issue (which saved the city $1.2 million in interest payments); the third party (a local bank) then lent the city the money to buy the club. In late July, Lavonia mayor Ralph Owens announced that “the city was offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get rid of a very undesirable business in Lavonia. The transaction has now been finalized, and we can make history for our city. By purchasing the Café Risque property, the city can now rid itself of that terrible business and the awful billboard blight”. This set off a round of celebration from the crowd, who followed the mayor to the Café Risque site, where all the signage was taken down from the building and set alight in a huge bonfire.
And thus, Café Risque ceased to exist. There remains only one question in my mind, though: what reason do I ever have to visit Lavonia now?
