Rick’s Jewish-American Café. Oh the memories…or lack thereof. Well, I guess there are a few things I can vaguely remember…
When my friend asked me which bar he should go to when he visited Ann Arbor, I directed him to Rick’s…although I told him that I was so blacked out every time I went there that I don’t remember whether that specific night was good.
Whenever I’d see my friends after Rick’s, a comment along the lines of, “Carlo…I saw you at Rick’s (insert # of days/weeks ago). You were so wasted. You couldn’t stand. (Insert person’s name) was holding you up,” wouldn’t be so uncommon.
There was also the night I thought I couldn’t find my jacket, so I “borrowed” two other jackets, only to find my jacket within ten seconds of “borrowing” those other jackets. This in turn caused a chain reaction of people “borrowing” other jackets.
I also remember drinking Bacardi & Cola heavily with Ben and heading to what we dubbed The Blackout Mecca (He called it the
Lastly, I remember going there on Thursdays to avoid the gargantuan underage line at Scorekeepers. This is why Thursday nights are better than Saturday nights. I mean seriously…the same people that went there on Thursday night were probably back there on Saturday night, with the diehards probably there on Wednesday night too. From my blurry recollection, I remember seeing the same hoed out girls and chachy (Or is it chochy? Does this word even really exist?) guys there both nights. I raise a toast to you, Thursday night.