MADELEINE LUCCHETTI | ASST. OPINION EDITOR | firstname.lastname@example.org
Looks like I’ve resigned myself to an inevitable fate as Butler’s resident wannabe-Buzzfeed writer. Wondering which Broad Ripple haunts you should check out this weekend? Raise your glass: cheers to finding a bar complementary to your personality, whether it’s a sticky dive or an overpriced club!
If you spent your underage years in claustrophobic frat basements:
Try Landsharks, where you’ll reunite with all the kids from your FYS and plenty of super-seniors on a victory lap. Bouncers replace risk managers and even the playing field: Greeks and non-Greeks, athletes and NARPs, AV kids and 44th Street kids. And for just one dollar, you’ll receive the jungle juice of your choice. It’ll last you a few minutes before Brad knocks the cup out of your hands on his race to restrooms that barely passed health inspection. Essentially, this is The Knoll, but with walls.
If you are into secondhand smoke and cover bands:
Grab a table at Conner’s Pub. You’ll have to direct the Uber driver around potholes and feral cats, but the scent trail of Marlboro will guide you. The place is a sociologist’s dream, bringing in patrons from all backgrounds and walks of life. But the environment of Conner’s is unique in that it is conducive to actual conversation — there are places to sit and most people are not yet intoxicated beyond the point of speech. An exception should be made for Thursday’s live music — scream your conversation over the chorus of “Free Bird” or “Voodoo Child,” led by the shoeless duo in the corner with an amp and one too many PBRs.
If you enjoy Sportscenter and 2015 pop hits:
Hit up Brothers. You will not miss its traffic cone-orange marquee, under which shine the balding heads of 30 year olds clamoring to buy college kids drinks. You will exercise patience both whilst waiting in line and again as you try to catch the overworked bartender’s attention. Twenty-five minutes later you’ll carry your $10 Long Island to the “dance floor” and bop along awkwardly to Carly Rae Jepsen. If you need a break, you can always stare blankly at one of their hundreds of televisions.
If you are a cheesy cornball:
Brick House Dueling Pianos should be your jam. You can yell along as some amateur bangs out “Brown Eyed Girl” twice within the same hour. You’ll force a resounding “YEAHHH!” when he slobbers into the mic: “Where my HAZEL-eyed girls at? Where my BLUE-eyed girls at?” Those who don’t respond with enthusiasm to the pianist’s diverse repertoire are publically shamed. This is as exhausting as it sounds, which is maybe why the place always looks dead.
If you crave elevated surfaces and anonymity:
Dance your heart out at Rock Lobster, which provides a cage-like stage, open-air floor and plenty of other platforms that will put your fist bumping at its focal point. This one is definitely the wildcard of Broad Ripple Avenue. Since you likely will not recognize a soul, Rock Lobster offers a reprieve from the running into everyone and their roommate at the aforementioned Landsharks. Not quite a club, not quite a dive, this bar is a crowd-pleaser. Certainly pricier, but you won’t have to sip out of a Dixie cup.
If you have had enough of it all:
Goodfellas Pizzeria. What better way to conclude a Broad Ripple night than drenching a two-foot breadstick in ranch and shoving it down your gullet? Let your eyes glaze over in a mozzarella-induced, or alcoholically influenced, haze. No one will know the difference.