Happy Birthday, Francis

Yesterday was Francis Grunow's 34th birthday, which was celebrated at the historic Garden Bowl on Woodward Ave. It was the densest concentration of young and hip Detroiters since the grand re-opening of the DIA.

I swear. I know a hundred or so people in this city and all but 6 of them were there.

I learned many things over the course of an evening of drinking, bowling and, well, even more drinking.
  • Vodka actually glows when exposed to black light. How I got through college without discovering this is beyond me. Maybe I was too drunk or something to notice.
  • If professional bowling had women as cute as some of those who were at the Garden Bowl, the PBA Championships would be the highest rated show on television.
I also learned that my neighborhood really is famous. Not only did we get mentioned in The Onion but people kept walking up to me, talking about how much they liked Gracie See's Pizza when they were there last week (I only recommended the place a couple hundred times) or Chick's Bar or how the neighborhood reminds them of some of the ones in Chicago, right before they became really big.

It was also after a lengthy conversation with a photographer friend of mine that I came to the conclusion that those liquor control systems, which regulate exactly how much a bartender can pour, are downright evil. They undermine the art and craft of bartending by taking away any discretion that the bartender might have.

Of course, the Garden Bowl and Majestic Cafe are cool enough venues, with amazing live performances, such that I'll overlook this one trip of theirs over to the dark side.

Anyway, Francis' party was amazing.


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