After the Yelawolf show at Nectar on Friday night, at the taco truck across the street, some guy was holding up the line, blocking the order window, shouting crazytalk at the cashier, and making a mess of his food on the truck's aluminum counter. Two cop cars rolled up, and the confrontation made its way over to them for mediation. The guy behind us in line had blood on his shirt, apparently from an unrelated incident.
While the cops worked it out and the line waited for the cashier to return, another guy, tan and muscle-bound and possibly bearing a tribal tattoo, started trying to pick a fight. He demanded our case of beer. He said that he was "like George Clooney... I'll put you in the ER." Only he pronounced it with a drunk drawl, "Eeeeyaarrrrrrrrrrr." He sounded like a pirate, and when told so, he got more angry and repeated his poorly analogized threat (Clooney got people out of the ER, iirc), adding a "bro" at the end for emphasis. At some point, the cops gone and the line moving again now, this guy pulled a gun out of his waist—it could have been a black plastic prop, or it could have been real and loaded—and handed it off to a friend for safekeeping, then resumed his shit-stirring. He repeatedly offered to go somewhere more secluded and further discuss his similarities to George Clooney. Switching gears, he dubiously invited us to a party. My friend, to his credit, asked him if there would be girls there. "No. Just beef, bro." We politely declined. Finally, he and two other friends (neither of them with the gun) demanded the case of beer one last time before we walked away, crossed the street, and rejoined the peacefully exiting crowd in front of Nectar.
The tacos were a letdown; you couldn't really tell one kind of meat from another in three different varieties of taco. Yelawolf, on the other hand, was nuts—charismatic, crowd-surfing, fully throwing himself into his raps, killing it all over, stirring up a total raging mosh pit at a rap show* (and defusing some pit tensions with the admonishment "Let that shit go, push that shit around, that's your boy"). Next time he's in town, you can bet it'll be somewhere bigger than Nectar.
* I'm not the kind of guy who blames bad behavior on music, so I take it as merely a weird coincidence to walk out of a show where one of the highlights was "Pop the Trunk"—in which Yelawolf advises his subject not to make him "go pop the trunk... on youuuuu," the implication being that there's a gun in that trunk with your name on it—and stumble into a scene of dumb fucking violence complete with peripheral firearm. Let me make clear: The taco truck has nothing to do with Nectar. I'd chalk the above d-bags up to standard Friday-Ânight frat-boy bullshit; these guys were bros, not hiphop heads, and they could have been coming from any club in the neighborhood or from somewhere else entirely. 
