Downtown bar adventure = psychological damage

Matt.Gonzales

November 15, 2007 by Matt.Gonzales

0 votes

I was recently dragged kicking and screaming into a dank, dark place that, for the past week-and-a-half, I have been struggling to forget.

The night was Nov. 3, the eve of the much-anticipated Colts-Pats game. My brother had come to town with a native Bostonian named Lenny. The two of them were going to spend the night at my place before attending the game on Sunday. I'd planned to entertain them with dinner and drinks at home, but Lenny had other plans. He had a friend who lived in Greenwood, and wanted to meet up with him at Champps Downtown.

We met up with an affable middle-aged fellow named Chris, and the four of us dug into our nachos and hamburgers as Chris regaled us with a staccato spray of one-liners. Then he tells us he works at a Downtown nightclub.

"We gotta go," he insisted.

I kept quiet, hoping my brother and Lenny would politely decline the offer.

"Awesome," Lenny said. "Let's go."

Now I know the distance between Champps and our destination was only a couple of blocks. But for reasons known only to God and maybe David Bowie in "Labyrinth," the path seemed long, treacherous and tinged with a sense of impending doom. I was ready to bolt in the opposite direction when the four of us suddenly arrived at a long line of fashion-challenged people illuminated by the glow of neon beer signs and streetlamps.

"What is this place?" I asked, mortified.

"Come on!" Chris shouted.

Once inside, I was instantly surrounded by a motley crew of people closer to my parents' age than my own. Everywhere I turned, my eyes were met by cleavage weathered by years of artificial sunlight and cigarette smoke. Most of the women looked as if they had attended the Ralph Steadman school of eyeliner application.

My first impulse was to get the hell out, but the floor, sticky with spilt beer, worked like a roach trap for humans. So I did what any rational person would have done in the same situation: I stayed seated at a corner table and waited to black out.

I don't remember how I got home that night. My friends say I've changed since then, and they're right: I now tremble at the mere whiff of Aqua Net, and 75 percent of Bob Seger's oeuvre sends me into convulsive panic attacks.

I might never be the same again. But you, reader, mustn't suffer the same fate. Let my misadventure be your warning: Should an innocent-seeming out-of-towner or work colleague ever suggest a weekend night visit to a certain Downtown club, run like the d---ens. That is, unless you're into that sort of thing.

--

Since the end of www.intakeweekly.com also meant the end of an online home for my weekly column, Circular Logic (which appears in the print version of INtake), I will be posting it here at Indy.com each week. Offended, bored and irritated parties can post their grievances in the comment box.

Forum: Talk

Tags: 

bars, pick-up clubs, cougars, watery domestic beer, poor judgement, blacking out

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6 comments

StellarSwarm
StellarSwarm, November 15, 2007
0 votes

Ike and Jonesy's?

MCD
MCD, November 15, 2007
0 votes

I don't go out in that area much anymore, but this has to be Ike and Jonesy's. I remember being forced to do the Vanilla Ice dance on the sticky dance floor and then crying myself to sleep. A girlfriend of mine used to bring me there many moons ago because she knew the doorman and DJ. Ike's is home to the acid washed, state fair hair, over the hill " cougar ". I'm glad you stayed in the corner. It's best not to make any eye contact with the " hungry like the wolf " 40 and up ladies who go there.

Matt.Gonzales
Matt.Gonzales, November 15, 2007
0 votes

No comment. But by all means, speculate.

:)

mlhphd
mlhphd, November 15, 2007
0 votes

How did you end up at the 501? Meet anyone nice?

benjamindy
benjamindy, November 15, 2007
0 votes

The 501? You're kidding yourself if you think the floor was sticky form "beer."

WallBanger
WallBanger, November 15, 2007
0 votes

I got more mud for my turtle from Ikes than any other bar. Although it is nasty smelling and does reek, it sure beats the kiddie bars downtown and the fake plastic horses--- bars where every "Carmelite" and the Broad Ripple freaks go. Chris is a bouncer there

Stay up North.

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