Two Dallas friends go viral after meeting 20 years ago on a chance Uber ride

In January, Danny Blanton, 51, who works as a part-time Uber driver in Dallas, picked up a passenger and exchanged the usual pleasantries. The passenger, momentarily escaping the cold winter air, chatted about trying to stay warm.

After a brief chat, the passenger spoke up and asked Blanton his first name. Upon hearing the answer, the driver said, “Man, I know you.”

For a brief second, Blanton thought, “uh-oh,” he said. Dallas Morning News. Horror stories about carpools gone wrong surfaced in his mind. But when he glanced in the rearview mirror, he did a double take. Sitting in the backseat of his car was John Johnson, a friend Blanton hadn’t seen in more than two decades. A wide smile spread across Blanton’s face as he waved at Johnson.

A few months later, Blanton posted dashcam footage of the moment on Facebook. He said the video was intended for a few friends to see. However, after being reposted on TikTok, the clips went viral, racking up millions of views and spreading beyond his circle to audiences as far away as Senegal, Brazil and Ireland. Weeks later, they even spawned a comedic reenactment.

“Danny and I have been watching the videos like everyone else and we’re really excited,” said Johnson, 60.

“I have read some comments that made some people cry,” she added. “It fills my heart with joy to know that it touched so many people.”

Neither Blanton nor Johnson consider themselves “social media people,” but they have been toying with the idea of ​​a podcast or video series to satisfy the demand (indicated in the comments section of the viral video) for updates on their friendship.

They don’t have any projects in the works yet, but the two men have plenty of stories to share, starting with where they met: working at Dallas’ Phenomenon nightclub.

Club Phenomenon, located off Preston Road and I-635, was the kind of club that attracted a low-key but star-studded crowd. During its heyday, Johnson said, actors, rappers, athletes and media personalities rotated through the three floors: a basement with live jazz, a first floor with booming hip-hop and a quieter second floor with R&B and soul beats.

“Three clubs in one, so you can choose whatever flavor you want,” he said.

Johnson, who was head of security, recalled seeing the likes of Mary J. Blige, Prince and Steve Harvey (“I used to cut his hair,” he said of the TV host. “I didn’t know if he was going to remember me or not, but he did.”)

As a waiter, Blanton rubbed elbows with famous guests on several occasions. Once, NBA player Gary Payton tipped him nearly $1,000 on a $400 bill. Blanton told him, “I appreciate good tips, but you tipped me too big.” In response, he recalls the athlete saying, “Danny, I told you I don’t want the change.”

He also remembers some of the stars’ usual requests. Former Dallas Cowboys player Leon Lett, he said, always drank a Malibu with pineapple, Absolut and a splash of orange juice.

The phenomenon no longer exists. The club was converted into a nightlife spot called Club Rockefeller, aimed at a younger crowd, according to Blanton. It was eventually torn down and turned into a warehouse.

Men left Phenomenon in favor of daytime jobs that allowed them to care for their families and personal responsibilities. Still, memories of the club would occasionally surface, particularly Johnson said in his case when he drove past the old building.

During his time working there in security, his marriage was coming to an end. The club offered him respite with the opportunity to flirt with women. “It was therapy for me,” he said.

Johnson always remembered Blanton, too, because the latter nicknamed him “DJ Shoes.” It was an affectionate nickname, which Johnson had earned because he was known to walk around all night in dress shoes. At closing time, Johnson would leave his shoes in a DJ booth, so his feet could rest, and play music for the crew to clean up.

“Danny and I always got along,” Johnson said. “He was a calm, relaxed guy.”

At a time when mobile phones were less ubiquitous and a lost phone number could disappear forever, the men lost touch with each other.

“We didn’t hang out all the time. After the club, you don’t have time for that,” Blanton said. “But I felt like I had known John my whole life.”

“You never forget good people.”