Never before or since has such a wacky retail establishment boasted a more commonplace name. People from out of town laugh when you approach one, suggesting a quick pit stop, although of course they will soon get it, they will understand everything.
To begin, for campus porno purchases, only Waterbeds N’ Stuff suffices. But of course, this only scratches the surface on their offerings. Yes there are indeed waterbeds, although the ‘n’ stuff part of the equation arguably matters more. I don’t remember how we first heard about the place, but then again the catchy commercial jingle was all over the radio then, and High Street as a whole was some kind of Machu Picchu for those of us living out of town. My girlfriend Heather and I would make the hour drive down from Lexington or Mt. Gilead or something back then just to shop this place.
This would have been the original campus location, mostly. If you look at the picture below, also posted on my catch-all High Street page, you’ll see a giant open space to the left of Maxwell’s:
Maxwell’s bar & Magnolia Thunderpussy, late 90s
Yeah, that would be where you would have found the OSU campus iteration of Waterbeds N’ Stuff, up until a fire consumed it in I believe April of 1996. Taking with it, I should mention, the treasured indigenous pizza joint Papa Joe’s.
Located further up High, about a block north of Lane, this newer Waterbeds location doesn’t have quite the same charisma nor the space, but offers a much more focused version of its standard notorious wares. A world glass selection of bongs and pipes and designer lighters underneath its countertop glass, the walls are adorned with black light posters and psychedelic tee shirts, with racks and display cases of trinkets both delicate and bizarre in the middle of the sales floor. Past a beaded curtain in back are the sex toys and adult games and pornos, and finally, in one remote corner, a few futons and papasans and pillows to justify its name. The initial spot and I think the one on Sawmill – also visited a time or two – had a second floor full of actual waterbeds, but space constraints rule out that offering here.
I’m happy to see they remain a thriving enterprise, with 13 outposts (a couple are furniture only, even, thus proving I suppose that the name isn’t a total nudge-and-wink wisecrack), an Instagram account and a blog. They have semi-rebranded themselves as Beds N’ Stuff in recent times, probably because nobody really buys waterbeds anymore. Otherwise, though, it appears to be business as usual – although I haven’t heard the theme song in many a year, however, and am wondering now if it might be available anywhere online.
Back to the pornos, which we had to – gasp! – purchase in the years preceding mass internet proliferation, these were already cheap enough at ten dollars a pop in mid-90s dollars, bargains made further so with a buy-one-get one coupon printed on the back cover of The Other Paper each week. Their prominent location on such a major publication – printed every Thursday, as was Columbus Alive – didn’t even seem that strange at the time, though difficult to imagine now.
We subjugate the streets, demanding spoils. Damon and Alan attack the midweek happy hour with a fervor, and as I’m rolling in from another double sided workday, they’re already three sheets. They’re just now catching their second wind, they’re sucking me into an optimistic whirlwind which carries us like styrofoam keg cups all the way down to High.
A Wednesday night equals country music at the Jailhouse, and the first solid lead Damon has produced. Smack dab in the heart of campus, near the northwest corner of Lane and High, the Jailhouse seems an odd host for this weekly hoedown. A fashionable club pouring reservoirs of beer and throbbing dance music to the collegiate legions, the other six days draw an entirely different crowd. But Wednesday comes and the boots return, the ten gallon hats, to the backing of the lonesome western dirges these people know by heart.
A correspondingly older crowd, mostly, though also including two girls Damon knows from school, Laurie and Jessica. Roommates, they’re both majoring in fisheries management, same as Damon, and have invited him to the Jailhouse tonight. He warns us not to expect much from either, but we’re starving for prospects ourselves and are not inclined to miss it.
Even by location, the Jailhouse stands alone. Joined at the hip to a Greek deli, mounted a half dozen steps above the street, the nightclub faces West Lane Avenue in relative aloofness. Dozens of bars dot north campus and far more limn the university’s bottom border, but the ones between are spaced out piecemeal. So they’ve got this corner of the university sewn up themselves, at least as far as dance clubs are considered and at least for the time being.
Laurie’s a tall, suave blonde, stylish and beautiful like a classic Southern belle. Sophisticated, remote, she says little, but something about her watchful eyes, her fuss free wisps of hair, these imply her age might extend a few years beyond ours. At any rate, in her boots and tight jeans, her button down satin shirt, her demeanor and appearance suggest a sassy gold digger from the 80s soap Dallas. But she’s far too subdued to fit this timeworn stereotype, she’s as cool as winter rain.
Unfortunately, her roommate Jessica more than makes up the difference. Flat as a board, her facial features similarly bland, Jessica wears her brown hair bowlcut short. No dummy, she’s aware of our wandering gaze. Desperate for attention, she stops at nothing to seize it, she drops her pants now and moons us, all in the name of showing off a fish tattoo on her otherwise lackluster ass.
Bottle in hand, Laurie leans against the dance floor railing with impeccable nonchalance, eyeing the crowd packed snugger than her jeans. But upon the lip of the slightly elevated dance floor ourselves, Jessica insures we advance no further, yammering above the clamorous country patter, accosting Damon with a ceaseless rundown of her day’s spectacular achievements. Akin to Raymond on three pots of coffee, she’s shamelessly self exalting, enumerating professors delighted, tests aced, and papers penned with utmost precision.
Having long since given up on Meredith, Damon’s primary interest lies in working Laurie, but Jessica won’t let him. Thankfully Alan and I are not trussed as such, and we leave him nailed without pity upon that cross. We squirm through every dark corner of the bar, we climb into the zipper teeth mesh of this dance floor crowd and unveil our amazing club moves. Throughout, I follow Alan’s lead, waiting patiently for the moment this seasoned veteran approaches some of these genteel foxes. Given his pronounced buzz, what I don’t expect is this sudden timidity, an atypical Alan.
We can’t claim, after all, any misgivings with the atmosphere. Just as unexpected is the warm welcome we’re receiving here, veering sharply away from the glowering indifference those elitist snobs showered upon us at Coeds and the Edge. Here, the guys tip their cowboy hatted heads once by way of wordless hellos, the chicks place gentle hands upon our backs while squeezing past. For a senseless joke I’ve worn my old pizza delivery uniform here tonight and we’re both dancing like flagrant jackasses, but nobody seems to mind either. Twinkle eyed old timers watch from afar with faint, praising smiles, and couples cling tightly, while we hog as many square inches their passivity will allow.
This place is so packed, too, that even when I dip out onto the back patio for fresh air, one must shout to be heard. And now that we’re drawn into this hyperactive sweat lodge, with ladies similarly inclined, it appears a voyage to the dancefloor is unavoidable. Lain like a silicon chip on a motherboard, slightly sunken and tucked just so into the front left corner of the bar – if you’re facing the street – a rickety railing divides it from polite society on the backside. Floor to ceiling mirrors flesh out the remainder of that wall, wrapping around and continuing down the entirety of the furthest one. Windows line the front, meanwhile, overlooking Lane Avenue and the equally intoxicating nightlife beyond, the breadth of OSU’s massive campus of which this marks more or less merely its northern edge.
Somehow, nearly five months pass before our next visit. This time around, it’s a Thursday, and the three of us arrive as part of a house party relocating en masse to the establishment. And while we enjoyed ourselves at country-western night in January, it’s quickly apparent that Thursdays are an altogether different animal, and we need to work this back into our mix pronto. Already one o’clock, which is possibly the perfect clubbing hour, and this Jailhouse, exquisitely named considering the number of clearly underage drinkers here, is packed to the point that idle contemplation a la Maxwell’s is simply not an option. A claustrophobic constituency so potent we virtually have no choice but grind up against the girls in our group, as we collectively storm the dance floor. Which isn’t to say we mind, only that absolutes are appreciated, eliminating second guess.
With the walk and an extended stand in line, lost time and the DJ’s skittering beats add an urgency to these motions. Though joining us out here, Damon does mostly lean against the cell block railing, determined to mentally capture every noteworthy creature prowling these grounds, employing a cigarette smokescreen to dissuade all attempts at making him dance. Alan and I, meanwhile, pounce on these passing moments, determined to master them rather than the other way around.
Keisha slithers between us, trashed and laughing as we mash our bodies against her, a tag team executed in this sanitized playground with all our clothes still on. Her bluish purple satin blouse and tight black slacks, not to mention her proximity, invite textile examination, and as she pumps against him, Alan grips her ass cheeks firmly in his hands, squeezing them, while I support her elephantine breasts in mine. Then he and I switch places, swapping duties, as Keisha continues howling her fool head off, shouting what a blast this is.
Like a gas filled balloon, physical laws dictate that these particles will never hold one constant position. Clusters break apart and scatter, reassemble elsewhere in temporary random sequences. Becky emerges, we drape one loose arm across the opposite’s shoulder, seal our interlocking pelvises together as one as we obey the hyperactive beat. Whereas Damon refuses yet this dance floor’s siren call, he manages hands full with Lauren’s backside, and she gamely shakes everything she has into them. Lauren now turns to face, and gyrate upon, his stationary mass, as I move from Becky in behind her, hands mobile, resurrecting the Keisha skewer executed moments ago.
The hourglass betrays, however, and our disc jockey’s amplified bellow announces, with as much merriment as possible, impending last call. Hordes deplete with tsunami force, depicting Maxwell’s as a Sunday knitting circle by contrast, and I pause for breath along the rail with Damon and Lauren, the three of us bound together, and little hope of locating the others within this mad stampede. But jokes about her looseness aside, Lauren’s dumbfounded gape fails to stir these loins. I can’t quite figure out why, but she bothers me. Striking off into this still grooving swarm, for half have gone nowhere, for the music continues and colored beams swirl where house lights have yet to come up, I stumble by what seems a miracle onto Becky and two of the other nameless girls, stepping lighter now with the rhythm, here where the dance floor cuts off near the bar.
“What’s your number?” I shout into her ear.
Without breaking her backbeat stride, she barks out the seven digit code. “Call me!” she urges, now abruptly throws her arms around me in a parting embrace.
I find Alan and Damon comparing notes by the door, and we exit together. We take only a handful of steps outdoors, however, and a brawl erupts before us, drawing our feet up short on the sidewalk. Two wiry males, shirtless, and one rams the other’s head against the Jailhouse’s brick front wall. Now a smattering of friends join the fray from both sides, and the battle spills out onto Lane Avenue itself. Traffic at an actual standstill, though whether in deference to the brawlers or simple rubbernecked curiosity is impossible to establish. Late breaking cops rush now on foot across this grassy expanse at the southwest corner of High, and all other factions, opposing or otherwise, disperse.
As the years advance and the Campus Partners scourge begins to wipe out all competition, this Jailhouse soldiers on unopposed. Owing to its location, along Lane Avenue and therefore insulated from that south campus cleanup effort, this place is spared that particular wrecking ball campaign. Even so, people for whatever reason aren’t as loyal to dance clubs as they are their favorite dive bars, and for the Jailhouse to hang around as long as it does is impressive. Steamy and overcrowded to begin with, in the face of withering options it becomes doubly so. Placement of the lights is also such that these swarms of bodies seem to blot out most potential illumination, making for a dim affair before you’ve even started pounding any beverages. Maxwell’s in its heyday is comparable, maybe, but not now and maybe not ever.
At some point, however, it does appear that this place did coincidentally enough (considering the name)…run afoul of the law. Not that it’s all that shocking to consider the cause, the familiar old bugaboo around these parts: serving minors. So yes, it was a constant campus plague, yet only one club was foolhardy enough to jinx itself with a name like The Jailhouse. After this, it became Quarters. Chances are I will create a separate post about Quarters sooner or later, but for the time being, you can sleep easy knowing that it was pretty much the exact same thing as before.
Though you do read some conflicting reports on this topic, the original restaurant was absolutely opened at the corner of Woodruff and High in 1982. The address translates to 2044 N High Street now. A pair of transplanted New Yorkers, Jim Disbrow and Scott Lowery were apparently hanging out at Kent State University when they came up with the idea. However, anything stating that BW3 – then known as Buffalo Wild Wings & Weck, preposterously enough, a name which would, even crazier, last almost 20 years – initially opened up shop at Kent State, this is simply untrue.
Even as of the late 90s, when I first begin frequenting this location, there are still printed materials around the building trumpeting its status as franchise numero uno. As of 1992 there were just 8 stores, but the franchise exploded from that point forward. Sadly, just like the original Wendy’s operation downtown (shuttered in March 2007), C-bus figureheads displayed little interest in preserving this semi-seminal piece of history, and it has since bit the dust. Sure, there is something at that address now, but it’s a completely different building, and it sure ain’t BW3.
To step back in the time machine a minute, as of early 1997, Tuesdays at Woodruff and High (just like every other location in town, possibly beyond) meant twenty cent wing nights with lines literally out the door, and nary a spare seat in the house. But we were always much more interested in the Wednesdays, where they clear out the space by a front window for this open stage acoustic jam night.
Nowadays what I suppose you might call the “replacement” location sits about two blocks north, just past Lane Avenue on High Street. Representing for all intents and purposes the heart of campus – the major campus intersection, if you will – this plot of land makes sense, the design is snazzy and I’m sure it’s doing well. And time must march on. Still, with mostly flat and wide open land stretching in every direction, it isn’t as if Columbus represents limited space, an island like Manhattan where buildings must constantly be leveled in the name of progress. As such, you can’t help but lament the obliteration of these landmarks.
The one at 5240 Bethel Center Mall has also represented a healthy chunk of our repertoire, though, and still stands right where it always has. Wall to wall drunks, most of them sports fanatics, hollering in either agony or triumph with every scoring change on the big screen TVs all around us. In this relatively posh northwestern subdivision known as Upper Arlington, a notorious hub for twentysomething postgrads who either haven’t figured out where they want to move or never will. Cavernous in size and brighter and overall consistently busier than the campus version, this Bee Dubs feels more sports bar than pub, emitting far less warmth. An aircraft hanger separated by gleaming golden rails but not walls.
But the Wednesday night open stage jams at that original campus location are a fascinating animal, something truly unique they have to offer and probably, for a spot that always seems to be pretty much packed anyway, their most profitable day of the week. Swimming with women, the crowd almost becomes another instrument. Some old guy standing in the middle of the room plays an actual one, clanging spoons together with every song, oblivious that everyone considers this racket as pleasant as an ear infection. Surrounding him throughout this chainlink tight room, masses of coeds clap hands and flip lids regardless which song’s playing, making believers out of Damon and me, that we can march down here with our tidy set and clean house.
We have found one last seat in the bar half of this campus BW3, the booth most distant from its stage. Throwing on our glasses allows us to better view the bands, and automatically eliminates any chance of meeting ladies. We both run neck and neck now as biggest dorks in the room. Damon’s Buddy Holly rims are either twenty years ahead or twenty years behind the times, while my own seldom worn frames, held together with paperclips, are so bent they lean forward at a laugh inducing angle. Babe magnets we are not, not by any stretch.
Following just the one practice, the three of us feel we’ve gotten a handful of songs down well enough to serve our informal purposes. Our third co-conspirator isn’t with us tonight, but it’s as good a time as any to find out how we might crack the rotation here. Damon approaches this goofy middle aged guy who’s running the show. He looks socially awkward to a fault, at least from where I sit, standing off the side squirming in his own skin, fidgeting constantly, and at no point makes any appearance on the makeshift stage, the minuscule corner spot where a few tables have been moved aside. In speaking to him my roommate returns less informed than before, as he attempts to sort out the nonsensical explanation given him, the particulars of cracking this jam night rotation.
“He said something about how we have to come down at seven and sign up, then come back at nine and sign up again,” Damon says, eyebrows stitched together into one unbroken band of confusion.
Compounding our distress is this annoying duo currently gracing the stage, Johnny Bravo. Well dressed fratholes, they’ve thrown together just barely enough musical knowledge to justify their presence, though this doesn’t stop their brethren crowd from cheering every move the two of them make. In all fairness the guy playing the acoustic guitar is solid and for the most part flawless, unobtrusive. But his buddy with the backwards baseball hat has the most annoying smile we’ve ever seen, the smile of a bad ham actor, turning our stomachs while the ladies eat it up.
They pull out Sublime and Beastie Boys covers, but ham actor substitutes his own lines half the time with inside jokes about people we don’t know – their pals on fraternity row, most likely, as each name check is greeted with a raucous round of applause by the crowd. To their credit, most of the kids in attendance are clearly here to see Johnny Bravo, and maybe it’s just jealousy clouding our judgement. Easy to hate guys like these, who can shout out a simple, “Pete!” or an “oh yeah!” and have that sentiment met with whistles from twenty hot females. I think I’d almost rather hear the old man with the spoons solo than suffer the width of this set.
At the time, it seemed kind of weird and cheesy to be lurking around snapping these photos. I mean, who walked around in the late ’90s taking pictures of buildings, with a camera that used actual film? My girlfriend during this era even went as far as to say this was, and I believe this is an exact quote, “fucking stupid.” But now, I definitely wish I had taken a whole lot more of them. As it stands, I only have a handful.
Anyway, I decided to help you out with some quick links here, to jump to various sections of this epic street. Click below to transport there, intrepid traveler. By the way, if viewing this (and most other pages, really) on a mobile device, you might want to flip your phone sideways to view it in landscape mode. Things should then make much more sense to you:
Yet another Chipotle knockoff, although this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. They do offer a few unique twists as far as toppings are concerned, chief among them a slew of unique sauces. Recently I went with a taco meat burrito topped with jalapeno ranch and found it a pretty amazing combination. I still can’t stop thinking about this meal. Yes it is a chain, albeit one founded in the not-so-distant city of Kettering. And there are just a couple Columbus locations thus far, plus one each in Grove City and Hilliard.
8275 N. High Street – once upon a crime it was CheckFree headquarters. Also Worthington Industries (Jan 2000) which is awarded a 100% tax abatement in 2000. CheckFree itself got an abatement of some sort in ‘93. Now there is nothing here, so, yeah, that whole concept doesn’t really seem to have worked out.
8231 N. High Street – Formerly belongs to The Wine Bistro. Now permanently closed.
7625 N. High Street – A deceptive amount of stuff is going on at this address. The Pontifical College Josephinum, including the St. Turibius Chapel, is the most prominent of these. But there’s also the Jessing Center (conference space), Bosc + Brie (a caterer), and A.T. Wehrle Memorial Library.
7925 N. High Street – ZipZone Outdoor Adventures.
6550 N. High Street – Worthington’s municipal building and city manager’s office are located here, among other entities. At one point the Worthington Arts Council would host some showings here, although I’m not sure if that’s still true.
A few blocks beyond here, the addresses get a little confusing. Somewhere around the Worthington-Galena Rd intersection, Worthington drops the “north” part but retains the High Street bit, while starting the numbering sequence over. Continue further south still to approximately the Howard Avenue intersection, and the “north” returns, the Columbus city numbering resumes as well.
5601 N. High Street – The Light Of Seven Matchsticks. Or is that the dimness of seven martoonis? Actually this subterranean dive seems to specialize in bizarre concoctions of its own creation, which I’m sure you could guess from the name.
5295 N. High Street – currently Iron Grill BBQ & Diner. As of September ’06, though, it was a place called Pig Iron. I don’t know if these two businesses are linked, but am guessing they are in some fashion. Pig Iron was a rib joint, though also featuring a noteworthy fish sandwich and something called spiky greens. Plus plenty of other pork offerings.
5596 N. High Street – Over The Counter Restaurant. A low-key throwback diner with a bar. The name apparently refers to Nicklaus Pharmacy, which used to call this address home and was owned by the famous golfer’s dad.
5220 N. High Street: The Ohio State School for the Blind. Originally built downtown, it was the first such school in the country, before moving to its current location in the 1950s. Among its famous alumni is jazz performer Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
5090 N. High Street – First Merchants Bank. Formerly one of two local locations for The Melting Pot.
5052 N. High Street
longstanding location for Pro Percussion, now known as Columbus Percussion. Known employee roll call: Larz Raymond, Jim Rupp.
this was perhaps the most iconic location of Tee Jaye’s Country Place, ever. Currently a Chik-Fil-A, which has at least attempted to retain somewhat of the iconic look outside.
-Clintonville-
4675 N. High Street – Nowadays this address belongs to RiteRug Home Remodel. But it was Scottie Macbean Café and Roastery as of at least Mar ’06. Breakfast thru dinner every day, a small food menu. Outdoor seating.
Clintonville Woman’s Club basement lounge area.
3951 N. High Street – Clintonville Woman’s Club. Site of my friend Maria’s wedding reception in March 2014. ‘Twas either a really sweet occasion, or, um, not such a pretty sight, depending upon what you’re talking about. For the stated purpose of toasting these newlyweds: yes, awesome. For those of us roped into pounding coffee flavored tequila by the bride’s maniacal brother Tommy: hmm, maybe not so much.
Clintonville Woman’s Club Gallery
3923 N. High Street – Park of Roses. I used to hit this in my 1997 bicycling odysseys, to catch the trail that would take me up to Bethel Road. Otherwise all I’ve really ever seen of this place is in passing, when I would come to the Whetstone Library.
3909 N. High Street – Whetstone Branch of the library. Would hit this every so often when living on or around campus, because it seemed like the most convenient one at the time. Fun fact: site of, to date, the last time I ever locked my keys in my car. This used to happen quite a bit but I’ve gotten a lot better about it (fingers crossed).
3805 N. High Street – Re/Max has been peddling real estate from here since at least the early 2000s. A litany of other businesses call this nondescript (it kind of resembles a high school from an 80s movie or something) Capital Centre office building home, with mixed results.
3535 N. High Street – This address belongs to three different but possibly connected entities: Global Gallery Coffee Shop, Ramble Coffee, and Clintonville Farmers’ Market.
3309 N. High Street – was once MPX Gallery. Currently the FUZZ Nail Studio.
3301 N. High Street – Rag-O-Rama. In my head I was thinking of this as a “funky clothing store” but it turns out this is exactly how they are listed in Google Maps, too, the first three words in the description. They’ve been here for who knows how long. Best Clintonville Shopping per Alive in 2000. The gimmick here is that this is a “curated” second hand clothing store, so the offerings should be a little bit better. Jewelry and other related stuff is available as well.
3269 N. High Street – currently sits empty, but it was once home of the awesome Clintonville Cobblery, owned and operated by Mike Leach and Soph Bolton. It’s sad this is no longer around.
But it’s possible this is somewhat of a doomed location. Before that, Eclecqtiques Antique Mall was here, and Portia’s Diner, and Whole World Pizza and Bakery (as of Mar 2000). That last one featured whole wheat pizzas, made their own salad dressings (Asian sesame, Garlic Herb). Mostly if not all vegetarian – veggie burgers, soups, etc
3179 N. High Street – Pace High Carry Out. Yes indeedy! Always a great beer selection, and it’s cool to see they’re still around.
3133 N. High Street – Is REWASH Refillery at present, though formerly the wildly popular Nancy’s Home Cooking. I only ate there once and, though everyone raved about the place, wasn’t really all that impressed. It could be that I just picked a bad day, because they only had two daily entries – so you were at the mercy of whatever they happened to be serving that day.
3131 N. High Street – currently Lucky 13 Salon Collective. A slight rebranding from years past, as for example in 2006 it was instead Lucky 13 Hair Salon. At that time, they were advertising men’s cuts for $17, Women’s for $21, coloring for a mere 45 smackers. Most intriguingly, they don’t accept reservations, only walk-ins.
3127 N. High Street – Spiritus Tattoo at the moment, though formerly North Oak Gallery.
3095 N. High Street – longtime home of a McDonald’s. They create quite a stir in the summer of 2000 by painting the entire exterior white, with just a little bit of red and yellow trim. It’s more of a tasteful grey these days.
3009 N. High Street – Pattycake Bakery. Classic sweet tooth offerings with occasional tie-ins to local events.
2977 N. High Street – Condado Tacos now. Was Talita’s (as of July 2000). A Tex-Mex type establishment, none too expensive but well regarded nonetheless.
2973 N. High Street – Blunch, a light, fluffy, a.m. and early afternoon eatery. According to their ads, they feature “creative morning cocktails,” too.
2971 N. High Street – Lineage Brewing. Though one recent ad mentioned that they were filling crowlers, I assume they meant growlers – and if not then I seriously need to check this place out, just to see what this is. Of course, it’s equally likely that their marketing guru is sampling too much product.
2931 N. High Street – Clintonville location for Aladdin’s, a popular Lebanese eatery. Fresh fruit shakes an unexpected surprise. I once applied to work for these guys (different location) but they apparently weren’t impressed by my resume.
2887 N. High Street – The Magical Druid, a “metaphysical supply store.” Was once a Bike Source location, one of four around town. As of April 2000, this was listed as their newest location.
2885 N. High Street – former location for Mozart’s up to at least October 2001. Now it is Harvest Bar + Kitchen Clintonville.
2711 N. High Street – I was sad to see this is just a barren plot of land now. In a previous life it was Patrick J’s, into the early 2000s at least. I came here a handful of times. It seems like someone once drove a car through the wall, but I’d have to research when this was. And could this be related to why the building was demolished? Rated Best Neighborhood Bar of Clintonville by Alive in 2000. Patio dining. They’re also raving in ads circa 2000 about having 5 TVs.
4784 N. High Street – Mozart’s Bakery and Event Space, the funky looking building with the pinkish exterior, kind of like the color of some good salmon dip. Paul Weiss is house pianist here.
4258 N. High Street – The Laughing Ogre comic book shop has been here for an eternity. The Soldiery Games & Cards also occupies part of the first floor, too, so there apparently must be an upstairs part in use as well.
3522 N. High Street – GIVE Yoga. Pearls Of Wisdom was here, however, circa January 2000.
3520 N. High Street – formerly an “eclectic art gallery,” called Civilization. Is now GIVE Yoga too along with Columbus Pelvic Floor Physical Therapy.
3296 N. High Street – now: Cornerstone Deli & Cafe
previously: (as of July 2000, anyway) Mill Street Bagels & Deli. Rated a “Best of Clinvintonville” pick by Columbus Alive in 2000, for their coffee. The atmosphere surely plays a part, as local artwork covers the walls.
3192 N. High Street – there’s nothing here now, but many years ago (May 2000 for example) United Smokes Of America dispensed the cigs at this address. They bill themselves as “Your Neighborhood Tobacco Store” and have four locations, but only one in Columbus.
3028 N. High Street – Brew-Stirs, a dive bar about as tacky as its name might imply. I’ve only found occasion to stop in here once. Miles and I got on a weird kick one night and decided to bicycle around the city visiting people, popping into bars for a beer if thirsty. He had been here before on many occasions, but I had not. Oddly enough, ran into a guy I’d heard of but never met, someone my parents went to school with in Ontario. He was playing in some band around Columbus at the time – but not here. Here, he was glued to a barstool.
2800 N. High Street – It’s funny how certain buildings seem to have a track record of housing specific categories of restaurants, when you would think a wide variety might be able to use the space. This address has displayed a fondness for Chinese over the years. Back in the day, China Buffet featured a pretty decent lunch special, although the problem with these places is they tend to be a little generic (naming it China Buffet doesn’t exactly help) and you struggle to recall details, or really develop much of an attachment. Nowadays Lucky Dragon plies their wares here, and this is a little bit more upscale, featuring a tiki bar as well.
-North Campus-
North High Street At Night
2663 N. High Street
A bar called Ravari Room once occupied this space, at this corner of High and Dodridge. It was connected internally to Hounddog’s and a popular enough spot that I was surprised when they closed up shop. Nowadays it appears the bar is still in place but they just call the whole thing Hounddog’s Pizza.
2657 N. High Street
Hounddog’s Three Degree Pizza. My first ever experience with this establishment would have been New Year’s Day, 1998 (or actually the wee hours of January 2, if you want to be precise). It had only recently lit up our radar for the first time, as a late night option. This initial foray involves a trip there as, following a night out at the club, they’ve stopped delivering at the hour we’re calling.
Damon and I head up there in my car, leaving behind a small arsenal of females at our house. His girlfriend, Shannon, and this chick she’s trying to hook me up with, Jamie, whom I’ve met tonight for the first time, are watching VCR tapes in our third floor living room back at 1990 1/2 Summit Street. Meanwhile, Melissa and Jenny are passed out already in Alan’s bed – no Alan, just to set the record straight, only the girls, for we haven’t seen our third roommate this particular evening.
Our early reviews could be summarized as less than impressed. After standing at the counter for an eternity while three cooks dick around in plain sight, sort of making pizzas and sort of goofing off, we finally catch someone’s attention. This really intense dude with long black hair, who resembles a Renegade-era Lorenzo Lamas, saunters up to take our order, although for some reason he is highly suspicious of our every move the entirety of this visit. Amusingly enough, I will piece together much later, with what I would ballpark at 99.9% certainty, that this was Matt Miner from Teeth Of The Hydra fame. He and I will wind up working at the same Wild Oats for a number of years, during which time he mentions having formerly manned the counter at Hounddog’s. A great guy and knowledgeable music fanatic, as it turns out, but yes – definitely intense.
Anyway, none of this is initially apparent. All we know is that he’s eyeballing us unrelentingly, all slow nods and surreptitious glances, like a cop interviewing suspects down at the station house. Eventually, having jotted down our order – nothing fancier than a single large pizza – he hands the slip off to those other two cooks.
Damon and I meander around while we wait, checking out the other half of this establishment. Over here it’s mostly a restaurant style operation with booths, dim lighting, some strange yet colorful and expansive artwork painted on the walls. A juke box and a couple of pool tables in back, kids our age milling around in that vicinity. Suspicious counter help aside, I have a feeling, if the food is any good, that this is going to turn into a serious after-hours habit for us.
After a short spell, the pizza is ready, and our spirited tour guide here brings it out. The counter from that kitchen side extends over here into the restaurant portion, terminating in a cash register equipped station. We’ve already forked over the necessary cash to some sort of managerial figure floating around back there and anticipate a hasty exit.
“You guys pay for that already?” our friend asks, sliding the hot cardboard box onto this white counter top. I reply in the affirmative but he studies me for a second or two, then stomps back to ask his boss anyway before allowing us to leave with it.
All is forgotten, of course, by the 3am hour when we finally return home with the pizza, large enough to feed the four of us – and delicious enough that, as intuited, this place soon turns into our late-night savior. Especially once we memorize the particulars of their delivery curfew.
2619 N. High Street – Ace Of Cups. Trendy live music venue I hate to admit I’ve yet to visit. Therefore subsisting for now on vicarious tales from friends, and their photos, plus a couple I managed to snap of the exterior. And Ray Ray’s Hog Pit also calls this place home.
One look at this boxy block of a building, though, and you know it used to be a bank. This somewhat explains why a different bar with the somewhat stupid name of Counterfit Heist was here, as of least March 2000.
Fast forward to 2006 and it’s a different club called Miani’s instead. Shucking Bubba Live Acoustic played hereevery Thursday at that time.
2573 N. High Street – there’s nothing here now, but it was a bar called Garcia’s through at least October 2001.
Jack & Benny’s
2563 N. High Street: Jack & Benny’s sits behind a wedge of window at the corner of Hudson and High. Circa 1997, the other three corners were overrun with a fast food taco restaurant, a drive through hamburger stand, a gas station, one existing video rental megastore and another across the street from it under construction, all national chains, and it was easy to surmise that this unobtrusive mom and pop café might be hanging on for dear life. Yet here they still are. And oddly enough, Jack & Benny’s began life way down at the corner of Broad and High, way back in 1954. Apparently an employee bought the rights to the name at some point and moved it up here – exactly the kind of weird development I find fascinating in the arc of a big city’s timeline, and a major reason this blog exists. Serving breakfast and only breakfast all day long, in a dining room no larger than one of their pancakes, rumor links them to a spotty oeuvre but I can’t find anything to complain about.
Of course, I would say this. Not as though I’m challenging myself any, picking a safe, American diner from the luxury of options lining this avenue. Accept this perfectly traditional ham and cheese omelet, glass of orange juice rather than rolling the dice on some Middle Eastern fare from Taj Mahal, induced though the eye is at every pass, by car or hoof, to its ridiculously extravagant patio.
A waist high white brick wall surrounds this lavish terrace, as black iron spears join hands above, six inches apart, for the railing. Made from this same metal, chairs and tables, wrought in lace like patterns, are held captive on the other side. All quite the calling card, if offering no idea what to expect within. Glances full of mumbling, abject horror exchange between help as their ignorant guest grapples with the exotic menu, I imagine, and anyway, I’m the kind of guy who prefers a plate glass window front to gauge in advance what lies ahead. Between the patio and the ivory fortress proper, a dozen odd steps rise to meet a broad front porch teeming with potted vegetation, and this distance exceeds my valor’s limited grasp.
2465 N. High Street – Call it the district of meaningful stare-downs. Highly reminiscent of our first ever visit to Hounddog’s Pizza a couple of months earlier, itself also a 24 hour operation, Damon and I are hanging out bored late one night and decide to give North Campus Video a shot. After scouring their diverse selection, which features a high percentage of weird, offbeat selections, we somehow settle upon renting Brewster’s Millions. This is where we encounter the guy working the counter who, in keeping with the Hounddog’s experience, is giving us the kind of intense glares usually reserved for homicide detectives interviewing their favorite suspects.
As far as his appearance, this individual is shaved bald, with tons of piercings and tattoos, seems to be possibly early middle age yet is pulling off this hardcore look with admirable aplomb anyway. Or at least this is what I might be thinking, if he weren’t grilling us to death over the issuance of a freaking video card. Everything the man says, he follows it up with a meaningful glare, no matter how trivial the point. Even though last I checked we’re totally normal and borderline dorky 23 year old kids with no criminal record to speak of, holding down paying jobs and even managing – gasp – to rent an apartment without issue for over a year now here in this big scary city. Obtaining a permit to rent VCR tapes is a major step, sure, but I have a feeling we’ll emerge from this unscathed.
“Our policies are different than other video stores…”
Meaningful glare.
“You pay when you return the movie…”
Meaningful glare.
“And your card can be used by anyone who brings it in….”
Another meaningful glare.
“So don’t lose it…”
2439 N. High Street – Though I believe this is closed at present, Blue Danube once was and possibly will be again the proud owner of this address. I would characterize it as what happens when hippies attempt to open a 1950s type diner, albeit one with an enormous well-stocked wooden bar, running the length of the restaurant. Or something to that effect. Opened clear back in 1940, the fare at this restaurant is supposed to be Hungarian at its core, or at least was before mutating to a drastic, radioactive degree. This might explain the vaguely European looking giant mural of a bridge over some river which once lined the building’s exterior, on the side bordering West Blake. Blue lights line the exterior, meanwhile, idly luring the passing driver in a subliminal tie-in with the establishment’s name. There’s a bunch of weird stuff on the menu, not all of which can be explained away as Hungarian, but also plain offerings like burgers, fries, and bowls of spaghetti for the less adventurous, like me. We used to park behind North Campus Video, although I can’t remember if this was legit or you just kind of hoped you wouldn’t get towed.
The Dube Dip was a popular sandwich. Best Restaurant on Campus per Alive in 2000. Also best cheap eats in the entire town, Alive, 2000. They were open until 2am, which was surely part of the attraction.
Bonus fun fact: A few of us came here for dinner the night of my 30th birthday party, before festivities kicked off in earnest.
2417 N. High Street – Dick’s Den. Known primarily as a live jazz sanctuary, other genres will grace the stage here on occasion. Places like this make me wish I could drink as much as I used to – preferably with a pack of comrades who were of a like mind – and had all the time in the world for pub crawling. They did have a pool table near the back, not sure if it’s still there. Annual 5 mile marathon starts with shots here, the winner gets a pitcher of beer. Named best place for live jazz, Alive, 2000.
2361 N. High Street – New Taj Mahal (Indian restaurant) but also Halal Zaika somehow (Halal restaurant. A spot that’s truly been all over the globe, though, when you consider for example that Blue Nile (Ethiopian restaurant) was here as of March 2006. They had a lunch buffet, and plenty of vegetarian offerings too.
2333 N. High Street – Trillium Kitchen & Patio. Trendy though slight food piles artfully arranged on, like, a slate slab or something.
2247 N. High Street – nothing is here now, or if it is, it’s purely residential. Taj Mahal once operated at this spot, though, co-winner of Best Indian Restaurant (with Indian Oven) in Alive July 2000.
2195 N. High Street – Was once Lee’s Market, up through at least November of ’99. This was a Chinese grocery store known for having a decent sake selection. Then became The Little Bar, which lasted over two decades, though is either on its way out or has in fact been closed by now.
2169 N. High Street – site of the longest running pun of a business name on campus, The Library. Students have been coming here for decades to huddle over a table, perhaps, but those aren’t books they’re soaking up – more like endless mugs of suds.
I remember when The Library first appeared in earnest on my radar. With Woody’s going through one of their intermittent stretches where they’re acting weird about carding everyone, I am scratching my head as to where I might actually take Cary for a drink. Now that Campus Partners has begun swooping in and closing down the former litany of indifferent dives on the university’s south end, it’s becoming noticeably much more difficult to pull off what used to be mindless. One night, working with Bruce, who seems like precisely the kind of inveterate backpacking cretin that would know every inch of this university, I ask him about a good place for bringing underage girls.
“The Library,” he says without hesitation.
His quick response mostly confirms my hunch, and the results certify it. With its big orange sign hanging over High Street, I’ve passed The Library who knows how many times without ever setting foot inside. If walking past I would risk a quick look at their foggy front windows, and that’s about it. There’s just something about stepping through a strange place’s barroom doors for the first time, particularly alone, which is a huge hurdle to overcome, even though it winds up being nothing and evaporates a split second after you’re inside.
And so it goes with The Library, too, every bit of this process. With its interior so dingy there are surely lifers who don’t even bother leaving at night, and nobody notices, they clearly don’t give a fuck who’s ordering what so long as you do it on the down low. You just allow one of the battle scarred wooden booths or wooden benches to swallow you whole, or even drift outside to their tight, crusty, asphalted back patio, and though you will probably encounter a blast of serious middle aged toothless cigarette breath at some point, this is a worthwhile tradeoff.
2608 N. High Street – Ledo’s Lounge. At one point, in 2006, city council voted to strip their liquor license. It seems north campus was becoming a wee bit too rowdy after they removed all the bars from central campus and south campus. But no, somehow this place has persevered. Back when Hoo Doo Soul Band used to hold court at Oldfield’s every Sunday night, some of us would dip over here for variety while the group was on break. Otherwise I wouldn’t really make a point of it.
2598 N. High Street – Bossy Grrl’s Pin Up Joint has been here since at least 2014.
2590 N. High Street – Currently belongs to The Spacebar. Oldfield’s used to be here, though, and for about a solid year, a bunch of us came here most Sunday nights to watch Hoo Doo Soul Band play. This place was packed on those occasions, although I can’t recall visiting many other times.
2586 N. High Street – Dirty Dungarees. Though we used to frequent a much less cooler location on Morse Road, the concept remains the same at all of them: bar meets laundromat, to tremendous effect. This particular spot on High is a hipster’s dream, featuring live music, even.
2550 N. High Street – Only the north campus Goodwill store, because of course. It’s basically required you have one of these in the collegiate mix.
2446 N. High Street – On foot from the house I find Gold Mine Records, much further north on High Street near Blake, tucked away in a white building resembling at first glance a dentist’s office. Helped little by its complete lack of proprietary signage, unless the tiny logo dangling from the front door’s window counts. Though specializing in classic albums from the 60s and 70s, cramped aisles and a pitiful selection, as well as some hard to place pathetic aura, almost certainly spell disaster. Used Kids shares the same space and merchandising issues, but our shopping impulses are often indefinable, what works, what doesn’t, and why; the air here is stale, oppressive somehow, and I doubt the small, bearded sage behind the counter – who gives the impression he must own this place, is possibly its sole employee – has any idea how large the likelihood is his little operation here is doomed. Feeling as if his survival depends upon the remaining shards of my tip money, I hereby justify purchasing a used Pink Floyd LP, and some assorted posters. According to my records this place opened its doors in 1994 and lasted maybe a decade.
2404 N. High Street – once belonged to treasured campus live music institution Stache’s, which closed in May of ’97. Now apparently this is the address for Gumby’s, so they must have moved next door at some point – I wouldn’t know, as we never actually dined inside the place (see above).
2402 N. High Street – formerly housed Gumby’s Pizza. This used to be our go-to for late night pizza deliveries, as they would drive to your house I think as late as 4am. During normal hours, Ohio State Pizza was typically the preferred choice, but these guys definitely owned the late nights. At least until one of our friends told us to avoid the place – something to do with “roaches the size of pepperonis.” Right around the same time, we discovered Hounddog’s, anyway, who would also bring their pizza wagon to your crib at insane hours. So it’s likely that Gumby’s was on the way out regardless. Amusingly enough, an operation now known as Pizza Fresca occupies this location…which I believe translates as “fresh pizza.”
2346 N. High Street – Was the Indian Oven, now the Indian Kitchen. I’m not sure if this is a rebranded establishment or something altogether new. Some exterior visuals remain in place, though, such as its striped canopy, and the narrow stairwell jutting from a second floor corner like the line on a capital Q. During the Oven years they did offer an impressive, bargain priced lunch buffet. Indian Oven was named co-winner of Best Indian Restaurant by Alive in 2000 (alongside the nearby Taj Mahal). One aspect which set Indian Oven apart, however, was an all you can eat lunch.
Trepidation extending beyond unfamiliar eateries, however, to even a casual browse, for I can’t draw the nerve to enter, along this random stroll, Neo Tokyo, for instance, proudly billing itself as the Midwest’s first anime specialty store. Or an adorable organic grocery shop, squashed letter opener thin, in a block long potpourri of merchants beneath one uniform redbrick shroud. Regarding these in the same light as certain follicle trimming establishments, as though unworthiness is immediately apparent at the door, is met with curt inquiries and raised eyebrows, a qualifying exam.
2194 N. High Street – Home to the current campus Waterbeds ‘N’ Stuff (original was found further south).
2188 N. High Street – as of Nov ’06 this is listed as an apartment for rent next to the CVS on Lane “no parking or dogs,” for $450 a month with water included. Looks to still be a residential address now.
^ North Of Lane
-Campus-
Back in the 1800s, High Street probably earns its name for geographic reasons, as a major avenue riding up above the Olentangy River. These days its name might imply a more drug riddled connotation – particularly as it slices through campus – but that basic topography still stands. Then again I think that was also a British thing we imported to America, how they would refer to their main road through town as “the high street.” Which nowadays is much more likely to have survived in the north and east than elsewhere.
Regarding this section, though wrestling with this decision endlessly, I have bounced this stretch of High Street over to the OSU Campus page. I’m trying to avoid having the same information in two different places, and it seems kind of goofy to have this huge chunk in the middle of campus missing from the actual campus page. So for addresses along High in between Lane Avenue and 9th, please click on that link.
I will leave any maps in place, however, so here’s one of the south campus region along High:
-Short North-
The grey area in between south campus and the beginning of the Short North has no formal cutoff, it’s more about what these buildings “feel” like. Also, from about 5th Avenue down to roughly Skully’s, you will hear occasional mention about this being the “Garden District,” technically, and not the Short North. But whatever, here we go.
1357 N. High Street – Despite sitting at a highly visible spot, at the southwest corner of High and King, this charming little brick building has had a tough go of it. I’m not even sure if there’s anything in this space at the moment. Hippie Hut, a guitar shop (1359) sits at the absolute corner, so this would be the other half of the building. Just Cause, a clothing shop dedicated to helping women recover from trauma, appears to have been the most recent resident. But the last trace of this I can find is a listing for a 50% off closeout sale in August of 2018. Prior to that, Roots Records was here for a while, and in the early 2000s it was Lava Java – a “furniture cafe” with kitsch and retro offerings. And Atlantis, another once popular clothing store, was at 1359 through at least August 2000.
1355 N. High Street – Supreme Cutz is the current barber shop on these premises. Doo Wac was a similar operation here, opening somewhere around 1985-ish, and would make somewhat bizarre assurances that they would not slit your throat with the straight razor. I’m not sure if this is some sort of regional joke that I missed, or they were going for some mock gangster vibe, or what. Doo Wac lasted until at least February 2000, possibly longer.
1253 N. High Street – The Hashtag Comedy Co. at present. Used to be Columbus Polarity Center/Polarity Therapy Institute, through at least October 2001. They offered free polarity bodywork treatments every fourth Monday, at 6:30 and 7:30pm. Also Kundalina Yoga on Tuesdays, from 7-8:30pm.
1227 N. High Street – Currently this is Condado (as well as 2977 N. High). A build your own taco empire with at least 4 locations in town. This used to be High 5, a live music hotspot (late 90s-late 2008), and I’m sorry that it no longer is. In November of 2008, a few other bar magnates around town bought it, and the place was formally rebranded as Circus in early 2009. This too eventually went out of business, I believe in 2014.
In these maps to follow, I am going to point out the differences at various addresses, between the year 2000 and the year 2024. Click on the red dots for more info:
1172 N. High Street – not currently in use. Former site of Culture 7 Records, however, and who knows what else.
1088 N. High Street – Byzantium as of Oct ‘01. Jewelry, incense, ethnic art, textiles, gifts, and millions of BEADS! According to their ad. “You’ll have a devil of a good time,” it also declares, shows a picture of some creature with long braided hair and devil wings reading a book. a shop specializing in sterling silver jewelry, ethnic art, candles and incense. Through at least January of ’02. They were open noon-7pm except closing at 6 on Sundays, open until 10 on Gallery Hop nights. Sold jewelry, incense, candle, art, music instruments, unique boxes (?), spiritual items, rugs, beads, beads and more beads. “Not Your Run of the Mall Store!” ads say.
More recently this was a House of Cigar and must have done fairly brisk business at one point, considering they were open until midnight even on a Monday. It is closed now, however, and the building unoccupied.
1081 N. High Street – another address in the same building that currently houses Privé Lounge, Santos Restaurant & Bar, Luxe 23, and Terrace Bar (all 1079). Yoga On High was at 1081 through at least fall of ’01. They offered classes in both Ashtanga and Hatha yoga, among other disciplines. Nothing uses this at the moment, though.
1055 N. High Street – The Ibel Simeonov gallery was here, then some operation called Enterprise Works, also Rebecca Ibel Gallery at some point. And now I think nothing. Among the exhibits during its Ibel days would be Melissa Meyer’s Abstract Women in 1996, and Carl Palazzolo’s 14 Actors: A Personal History of Italian Film a couple of years later.
1037 N. High Street – was American Business Equipment
1015 N. High Street – CheckSmart as of May 2000. You know, these check cashing places got a bad rap, and I for one will not withstand such flagrant besmirching of their reputations. These places got many of us through some really ignorant times, in a pinch. I don’t know if I visited this one in particular, but believe I may have. Currently this address seems to be unoccupied.
879 N. High Street – formerly something called Bargain House. This address is not currently in use.
1042 N. High Street – former address of Mahan Gallery. Currently Short North Tattoo conducts business at these coordinates.
1040 N. High Street – empty at the moment. Once home to Dr. Danga Grimaldi Circus (performance art), in unit #9.
1038 N. High Street – Oddfellows Liquor Bar
1026 N. High Street – Pies & Pints. Along with an Easton location, they also have a 3rd outpost much further north on High, up Worthington way.
1024 N. High Street – Fireproof Records Center, who’ve been in business since 1906, have done the whole data protection thing at this location for who knows how long – at least two decades, probably longer (they seem to have locked up their own history in that ironclad vault, as I can’t find anything more on them). I have to admit it’s a bit surprising to find them humming along quite nicely still in this pricey neighborhood; then again, paradoxically enough, one of the best ways for a business to survive in a trendy district is to not offer what said trendy district is known for. Restaurants, art galleries, and clothing shops turn over at a record clip here in the Short North, but data protection is apparently slump proof.
972 N. High Street – currently unoccupied, though once housing Studio 972. An art gallery, why but of course.
970 N. High Street – Oats & Barley Market. Charming neighborhood grocery operation with local goods, organic groceries, hipster beer. Coffee, an ice cream counter, wine tastings and free wifi round out the ensemble.
952 N. High Street – These are now just a collection of condos, apparently, though something called Ohio Art League once gave this address as their HQ.
906 N. High Street – Ram, a little ol’ rooftop spot in the Short North.
Short North’s Arch City Tavern
850 N. High Street – office space for rent! An Edward Jones financial advisor business gave it a shot here, as did Short North Natural Foods.
775 N. High Street – Axis Nightclub, a gay bar. In this events calendar for 2018 they advertise an “all-star cast” for Pride Weekend, so it must be a pretty big deal. Opened May of ‘99 with a Wizard of Oz themed party. Until then Short North had not boasted a dance club for many a year. Well, it seems they were originally a gay bar (which I think most people always thought they were anyway) but were slowly overrun with mobs of straight people, and became just a regular if popular dance club. Voted best dance club in town, Alive, 2000. Circa ’06, Patrick Finn and Rob Engel are the house DJs. Male revue on Fridays, drag shows on Saturdays. Free parking nearby nightly after 8:30pm.
765 N. High Street – Formerly Da Lavee, now Eugene’s Canteen. This is a trendy pool hall featuring some sort of pop up kitchen concept.
749 N. High Street – was once Mac Worthington’s Sculpture & Design Studio. His specialty was “fine arts in metals.” One ad I have seen features a picture Mac and his son Brando, along with a couple of unattributed quotes. The first says, “the dynamism of the sculptures is irrepressible. Worthington’s sculptures activate space with brio. A major art force in the midwest,” while the second simply summarizes his work as “compelling. Unexpected.”
This actually isn’t a bad strategy if you were just quoting your friends or something – let people think the New York Times was perhaps gushing about your work instead.
Is presently an Insomnia Cookies outpost. Amazing stuff, though this is a national chain.
747 N. High Street – Coney Island used to be here, through at least February of ’02. About what you’d expect with a name like this, albeit with one unexpected twist: they are open for breakfast as well. I can say with complete sincerity that I’ve never craved a coney dog for breakfast, but hey, who am I to judge.
745 N. High Street – One Line Coffee, which opened in 2012 (and are also found at 41 S. High, in the Huntington Center building). Garnishing some rave reviews online, they use what is billed as “one of the rarest machines in the world” on their website, and feature dessert goodies from various top local businesses.
Prior to this, it was the Wallich Gallery, and I don’t know what else. Despite their somewhat misleading name, particularly for this region, Wallich was a framing business. They would frame things for you. While that might sound like a Portlandia sketch, no, this was a real live Cbus company, and one that was apparently able to afford Short North rent for a while. They offer custom framing, residential & commercial art prints, posters, vintage ads. At the time Corkwell, a caricature artist, operates out of here.
743 N. High Street – Emi Pet Salon & Boutique. Located in the really sweet and modern looking stretch of brick which includes One Line Coffee (see below) and others, with apartments above, even.
Was formerly Leaves Of Grass, a floral design studio which specialized in weddings. They were here through at least January of 2001. Rated best florist in town by Alive, 1999 and 2000, as they compare it more to a terrarium than your standard flower shop. ‘Twas a floral design studio run by Steven Sturdivant, specializing in wedding and event florals
741 N. High Street – Press Grill. They’ve been voted one of the best places in town for eating at the bar, and I would have to agree with that sentiment. Erin is still raving about this plate of cottage fries we had here, ages ago. Vintage crooner era lounge with sizeable martini menu. Not a huge food one, but what’s here is great. Club 185 Burger among their more popular offerings. Also offer Buffalo shrimp, calamari, other semi-adventurous fare.
731 N. High Street – Coffee Table (circa July 2000). Alive rates them the best place in town for a first date, in 2000. Mentions that they have entrances in front and back, as well as an outdoor patio (a joke that this gives you amble opportunity to ditch someone), but also the expected coffee & tea options, as well as a terrific dessert selection. Among the decorations are a gold lame couch. Were also non-smoking years before this became an ordinance. They also serve soups, scones, croissants, etc.
721 N. High Street – Specializing in pizza and brunch, Forno Kitchen & Bar has garnered a positive Zagat review and strong consumer ones, all at reasonable prices. Not to rip on a former tenant (about whom I know nothing, I should add), but I’m guessing Baskets By Bonnie failed to elicit quite the same level of hype. It’s amazing how much mental imagery can be conjured up by the mere names of these long gone businesses, though, and make you kind of wish you’d taken a week off work or something to do nothing but stroll around checking out every single one of them.
Baskets By Bonnie offered baby gifts, Ohio products, bath accessories, gift books, stationery, kosher and gourmet foods, domestic and imported wines. “Let us send your message,” one ad says.
719 N. High Street – Another location which bolsters the theory that certain buildings seem to attract certain categories of business for no apparent reason. Prudential Realtors were here before, then Columbus Metro Realtors, but I don’t think it was any kind of name change or takeover situation. Now comprises part of the space Forno Kitchen has claimed.
717 N. High Street – once belonged to Vieyra Gallery, an art gallery that also specialized in mid-century furniture. Not in use at present, as I think Forno Kitchen now covers the entire front end of this building, from 717-721.
693 N. High Street – Mac’s Café (as of July 2000). Scottish food meets pub grub. Also lots o’ beer imports.
But then this address (and/or possibly 691? Reports seem to conflict on this point) is Fabian’s Pizza from at least 2006 through its closing in 2019. Pat Malik is listed as the owner. I don’t remember where Jason Fabian’s restaurant was, also in Short North on High Street and named simply Fabian’s, but believe this must be an entirely different enterprise – at any rate, it’s completely different fare. This place specialized in Chicago style pizza offerings. They also have things like a sandwich named Italian Beef, which is basically a French Dip, or a Chicago Dog (beef weiner, poppy seed roll, celery salt, a sugary relish, tomatoes, hot peppers, cucumber.) Its Pasta Salad is also well regarded, bowtie pasta with a light dressing and parmesan, celery, onions, etc. Apparently this place just opened as of Nov ’06 and was formerly a coffee shop, then a deli, according to The Other Paper piece I’m reading.
691 N. High Street – Pinot’s Palette Short North, a painting studio, is here now in Suite 101. EXCEL Management Systems, Inc. also calls this home, suite unspecified.
Many years ago (2001 for example) Basso Bar called this address home.
689 N. High Street – Alexanders Jewelers at present. Was once this semi-bizarre gift shop called Great Things On High, who had some sort of gargoyle and angel theme. “See our fantastic display of angels! And gargoyles! And greeting cards! And thousands of other gift ideas!” says one ad. Has a little winged dragon looking creature logo. They were here through at least March of 2001, possibly longer.
685 N. High Street – ROOH, which bills itself as a “progressive Indian restaurant” is slated to open here in Summer 2019, though as of this writing it has yet to do so. Prior to this, it was Westies Tavern, and even earlier a rare Waterbeds N’ Stuff location which didn’t quite make it.
I’m not sure exactly when the Waterbeds N’ Stuff vacated these premises. They were swinging for the fences back in the day, though, with print ad coupons such as $50 off a $500 purchase, $20 off a $300, et cetera.
677 N. High Street – A popular spot for financial institutions. Chase Bank at present, though Bank One before that.
647 N. High Street – First Commonwealth Bank at present, but was Brian Boru’s (club) as of October 2001.
641 N. High Street – I’m actually not sure why they give all these businesses here the same address. At present here are the various operations listed for 641 N. High, some of which have separate sidewalk entrances. And this doesn’t even get into whatever’s going on above, in the really cool looking, turn-of-the-20th century brick stuff upstairs (sorry, architecture isn’t exactly my forte). The roll call: Hammond Harkins Galleries (art), Lemongrass Fusion Bistro (Columbus institution), The Pearl (oyster bar of some sort), um, Urban Office Furnishings, Hunegnaw Executive Search, and some apartments.
In early 2001, Lemongrass opened up this neat little piano court which featured Mary Daniels every Thursday and Friday at 7pm, Gary Matteney on Saturdays. I don’t believe they are still messing around with this concept, however. According to one old writeup in The Other Paper, they serve “Asian fusion cuisine in a Eurocentric atmosphere.”
In case you’re wondering, though, it was pretty much the same concept here otherwise, even 20 years ago. The late 90s found K2U Bar/Grill (a Rigsby’s enterprise, mostly Italian & American fare, closed Sundays) and Eleni Christina Bakery, among others, slotted in where these newer businesses now are, and a decorations/antiques business called Loot also hung out its shingle here.
K2U I know was here through at least February of ’02. This joint is known for its distinctly separate halves, one more of a bar and the other more classy. The classy side features paintings of famous people, with a frequently rotating menu.
Yukon Building (601-615 N. High Street) – kicking things off in the first shop on the left, just before the I-670 cap, is this really cool looking built in 1929. Star Jewelers, Winan’s Coffee + Chocolate, Braven Group, Akinlawon Rose, Shopping Shareables, Shred Nations, Value Real Estate, Marcella’s and a USPS drop box are the current tenants. Functional Furnishings was at 601 up through at least 2000. In more recent times, a Warby Parker had that same address, and a UPS store and Bishop’s beauty salon occupied other spots in the building. Down below is what it looked like many decades ago.
Yukon Building on North High
790 N. High Street – A restaurant called The Eagle Short North slings Southern themed baskets here now. While I’m not sure whether this is a straightforward or ironic hipster’s take on this cuisine, anytime you see red and white checkered wax paper underneath the food, you know it’s going to be an unpretentious atmosphere. And it doesn’t really matter anyway if the offerings are tasty enough.
2 Co’s Caberet, on the other hand, was apparently just saucy – I’m not sure about the taste. They were an offshoot of the Shadowbox theatre and opened on February 3, 2000, went bust in 2010. Before this it was Metropolis Motorcycle shop.
736 N. High Street – Business turnovers are plenty fascinating to this nerd, but when addresses are eradicated completely, these are a mystery I want to solve immediately. For now, though, the only clues I have are that it used to be called Reality Theatre, now it is apparently nothing.
692 N. High Street – All purpose building with a mixed bag of offices. Sevell (web design) Plastic Selection Group (name seems self-explanatory, but maybe not) and Bytemonkeys (not sure what this means, though presumably tech related) are among today’s tenants. Rigsby’s once had their company HQ here, but no longer.
688 N. High Street – Quinci Emporium opened here in March of 2016, a steadily broadening enterprise which now includes a commercial kitchen and pastry chef. They offer a little bit of everything here, from imported food treats to wine to cooking classes. Prior to this, though what I’m reading might be a typo, a company called Cookware Sorcer was here. It probably was/should have been spelled Cookware Sourcer, although I secretly hope it was actually called Cookware Sorcerer. If not, that business name is a goldmine primed for discovery.
686 N. High Street – Studios On High. According to the press release tidbit on their website, they’ve been around since 1986, which makes it the longest standing gallery of its kind: owned/operated by the artists involved.
682 N. High Street – Global Gifts plies its trade here, which is apparently in the sporting/outdoor category. Former home of the similarly named Global Gallery – I’m sure you can guess what probably happened there. They were here up through at least May of 2006.
680 N. High Street – Brassica is the current occupant, a Mediterranean brasserie which has garnered strong reviews on Zagat and elsewhere. I haven’t been, but would wager it’s an improvement over Ricky’s Galaxy, a previous lessee of this spot. It was a restaurant, too, and sounds impressive enough, though not quite as highbrow.
Betty’s (as of at least Feb ’06) was once here serving comfort food and drinks until 2am, every night of the week. Kitschy décor. Funky offerings such as Thanksgiving turkey wrap. They have a martini glass in their ads, but are known more for craft brews.
674 N. High Street – Short North Tavern. I’m a bit surprised to discover they at least used to offer – I’m not sure if this still applies – the occasional highbrow, touring musical act, like this chamber music trio I’m reading about in a piece from 1998. Otherwise, yeah, I think the name pretty much tells you what to expect: a fun dive bar stuffed with art district hipsters. Although then again Miles was always a huge fan of this place, and constantly trying to talk everyone into coming here. You need at least halfway decent pub grub to survive in this environment, it would seem, and they offer that as well. I’m a bit surprised by the food offerings here, in fact – not a place you’d expect to find a po’boy. John Allen is the owner during this period, the early 2000s. Free happy hour snacks, bands on weekends, chili.
672 N. High Street – Gag gift and novelty emporium Big Fun is plying its wares here now. They once had a shop further up High, on campus, which I used to visit quite a bit back in the day. That went belly-up in I think the late 90s, and they disappeared for many a year before resurfacing here.
Before this, Europia Gourmet Foods is one business which gave this address a go. I think maybe they were suffering a little bit from branding issues, if this ad I’m looking at is any indication. You wouldn’t necessarily guess from the name that this was actually a carry-out store – or so they say (The Carry-Out Of The Short North! is their proud slogan). But the offerings listed are a funky mix of over 300 wines (impressive, true), beer, cigars, bulk coffee, gourmet dips & appetizers, home made baklava, and gifts. Oh, plus milk and half & half, presumably for the coffee. The logo meanwhile is of what looks vaguely like a leopard spotted moon with a faint ring around it.
668 N. High Street – Was once a “home furnishings and fine art” place called Ethniciti. Now it’s the Macaron Bar Short North.
660 N. High Street – The Happy Greek, which has been consistently rated as one of the top restaurants of its type in town. Dagwoodz Diner was a popular institution at this address for quite some time, specializing in – as you might suppose – sandwiches, yes, but also drawing a decent breakfast crowd. They were here through at least 2000.
658 N. High Street – Empty at the moment, former home of Raffensberger Gallery, among others. Was Cookware Sorceror, for example, then Kloth (2000), a handmade clothing store.
650 N. High Street – Relentlessly modern looking building at the corner of E Russell was given a facelift recently – although the black & white images of moody female models continue to haunt the windows. Yes, it’s the Jacob Neal hair salon. Many moons ago, a fine art/furnishings consignment shop called Anew (had an accent mark over the e for some pretentious reason; I’m sure this isn’t why they went out of business or anything, but can’t imagine it helped, all the same) called this home. This space has a white facade now along its bottom half, but I believe it was entirely brick back then.
642 N. High Street – now Luxe Redux Bridal Boutique, was the home of Riley Hawk Galleries. Thus begins our lesson in the topsy-turvy world of selling enough art in an expensive, trendy district, so that you may afford your lease. At the time they did have other galleries in Cleveland and Seattle, however, so hopefully diversifying worked out for them. The March 2001 Gallery Hop finds them representing Masterworks in Contemporary Glass and Sculpture, to give you an idea of their selection.
However, as of 2007, it appears that this spot was empty. It’s the one with the white facade on the corner:
640 N. High Street – David’s European Skincare (circa July 2000). Says “@Stephen Colatruglio,” whatever that means. Also says it’s new as of this ad. Microdermabrasion, European Facials, Waxing, Tinting.
636 N. High Street – Muse Med Spa currently occupies this space. Before that, they were Wells Landing, a company selling building materials and kitchen equipment. This seems like a very tough neighborhood to pull off that type of business in, and indeed, in this grainy video still from June of 2007, you can see they are having a closing sale:
630 N. High Street – Union Station Video Café (club) as of March 2006. Co-winner (with Havana) of best GLB bar in town, Alive, 2000. Casual but electric diner type food. Ray Brown and Rajesh Lehoti own both, as well as Axis. Union Station had Will And Grace night on Tuesdays, were known more for food than Havana.
612 N. High Street – presently nothing, though former home of Utrecht Art Supply Center.
608 N. High Street – Collander Cleaners proudly advertised having been in business since 1906, and I can tell that they were here through at least 2014. Since that time something called The Beer Exchange apparently tried to set up shop here (just a hunch, but I’m guessing it was not quite as classy an operation, and lasted proportionally as long as one might suppose) and is now listed as a single family home that was built in 1920. I’m sure that’s technically true, but if so ’tis a funky home, with a giant shop window in front.
-Downtown-
We cross the retail cap over I-670 and, while I don’t know for certain this is where downtown “officially” begins, it seems as good a definition as any. You’ve passed underneath the last arch and this district does look a little different than other sights already crossed. If nothing else it certainly appears you are no longer in the Short North.
some notes I took on this area circa 2006. I still have no idea what to actually do with a lot of this information.
555 N. High Street – one of the most beautiful sights in town, that of the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral. Also ground zero for the yearly Greek Festival. As noted in my scattershot scribblings above, the exterior walls are a sandstone-ish color and the domes sea green, the building itself crazily angled in many spots.
505: is Zen Sushi & More as of Nov ’06. Ohio’s first sushi conveyor belt restaurant! I remember walking by the place many times when it opened, and you could see quite a bit of the inner workings inside, but I never ventured in to give it a shot. It doesn’t appear anyone is using this address at the moment, however.
475: Novak’s Tavern has claimed this address for eons.
467: Barley’s Brewing Company, also known of course for serving excellent food as well. They’ve featured live music in the past, which you might see mentioned in old events calendars as Barley’s Underground, but I don’t think they trifle with this at present. As far as this location is concerned, the sauerkraut sausage rolls appetizers were the highlight of one fondly recalled visit. Grilled mushroom sandwich (portabella, shiitake, oyster) is another standout. Their beers have won some awards in major competitions.
463: Bareburger. Though again this “boutique” word enters the press release, inducing shivers, the pictures I’ve seen and descriptions thereof make me want to check out this socially-conscious, artisanal burger stand. A second location exists a little further north, in Clintonville (4560 N. High).
Yankee Trader, a party supply store, was once based at this 463 address. At the time they billed themselves as “Central Ohio’s Single Largest Party Supply Headquarters.” They were here through at least January of ’01.
445: Mmelo. Boutique confections, they call these, in other words gourmet handcrafted sweets.
Martini Ristorante & Bar slung Italian fare and cocktails out of here for many a year. It was a lot pricier than you might expect, however, which could explain their eventual exit from this scene. They opened at some point in the middle of 2000 and were named “best cocktails in town” by Columbus Alive that year. Martini’s Martini is probably the obvious choice here, also perhaps the Buckeye Martini. I am a little confused, however, because they have an article at the time claiming that this place has been around for a few years as of 2000 – even though in March of the same year, there’s a listing for Carlile Club at this address.
As of (at least) October 2001, meanwhile, there was instead a pub called Cellar at this address.
As of Sep ’06 though the Carlile Club is still around, taking out huge ads in the weekly papers. They have Fresh Fridays which features “today’s best dance music” and $2 drink specials. Nino Anthony and David Farlow perform in the lounge, RobK and Bmass in the basement. Revolved Saturdays is late 80s/early 90s dance music, $3 drinks, with Quantum in the lounge and the same two characters stuck in the basement – spinning records, I’m guessing? This ad is a little confusing, though, and I’m not entirely certain what’s going on around here. Though it says DANCE DANCE DANCE (7 times total) scrolling down the left hand side, so you presumably know the drill. They also book the occasional national act, like there’s mention of Robin Thicke appearing soon. Also, in some other ads around this time, they’re mentioning Arlington Café as being their “sister club,” although I’m not sure what this means. As of May ’06 Carlile had Elektro Fridays, so it appears they soon switched these to Fresh Fridays instead.
185: Haveli Bistro. Indian food.
163 N. High Street – Now: a Subway franchise. Up to at least February 2002: Downtown New Orleans. A surprisingly cheap lunch destination, given the fare. Even some solid vegan options, like a Cajun peanut dish.
161 N. High Street – Elevator Brewery and Draught Haus. Way back when, it was known as Bott Bros. Billiards, who actually imported their bar from the 1893 World’s Fair. Following their efforts came the Clock Restaurant, before its current incarnation. This is therefore now known as the Clock Building.
In the late 90s, father/son team of Dick and Ryan Stevens set up a brewery here and created its current incarnation, which officially opened in March of 2000. At that time, among their signature dishes are Ryan’s Famous corn brats, IPA roasted chicken. The building is pretty impressive, featuring not just the original bar but also its stained glass front windows and floor made of mosaic tile. Other more modern touches like the chandeliers and so on blend in seamlessly with this retro look, and it’s even listed in a couple different registers of official historic places. Even so, while enjoying the atmosphere, I have to admit…I’ve been here, but was less than impressed with their house drafts.
They can surprise you with some occasionally adventurous food offerings, however, like a beef satay or spicy tuna tartare. At one point they proudly advertised this filet mignon served on a Tulukivi fire stone that would “sizzle cook” in front of you, served with salad, potato, dipping sauces, and three different sorbets. I’m not sure anything quite this ambitious is happening here now, but that does sound pretty damn tasty and makes me think about giving them another shot.
129 – Flatiron Bar & Diner as of Mar ’06. I feel like every major city is required by law to have some version of this concept. Upscale fare and I’m sure you can guess what the building looks like. As far as the theme, it’s vaguely Cajun/Southern, however, so that’s an unexpected twist.
7 N. High is Harvest Moon Café as of Apr ‘06
474 N. High Street – approximate address given to a statue of Arnold Schwarzenegger, parked in front of the convention center.
400: Columbus Convention Center. In ye olden days before this already quite large site was expanded and given a major facelift, predating of course the cap over 670, there was a ground level, open air parking lot accessible from East Goodale. I know this from first hand experience. Most of the events I’ve attended here were Amway conventions in the early 90s, amusingly enough. Even more oddly my girlfriend at the time, Heather, liked attending these things, to dress up and hang out listening to people’s life stories.
Speaking of stories, I made a nifty little slide show (AKA Google Web Story) about the Convention Center – heavy on the photos, light on the history. You can view that here.
Union Station, the local passenger train hub, sat here for almost a century. It was demolished in 1979, although I’m not quite sure about the exact address. Actually you can tell from the overhead arch that this would have been located on the other (west) side of the street. But you get the picture. As you can see from the photo below, the I-670 cap was designed in part to resemble this station:
Former Union Station along High Street, circa 1900.
404: Stories On High, a classy, tapas serving type bar located on the 28th floor of the Hilton – making it the city’s tallest such offering.
402: Somehow I just realized that Hilton Columbus Downtown has a higher address number than the Convention Center, even though this is the exact opposite of how they’re physically located: Convention Center is north of the Hilton. Or at least the main part of it, i.e. the part you’re more likely to refer to as the convention center. Hilton is nestled in between it and the catwalk you’d take over to shops such as Starbucks, Charleys Cheesesteaks, even the Heroes and Games comic book store, all of which have 400 addresses. Funky!
Circa 2006 at least, the Hilton has this ancient looking brick section housing an Italian restaurant of some sort. Connects to sky blue windows which act almost like caulk, binding to newer back section of hotel.
350: A slew of businesses have set up shop here. Most prominently, the Hyatt Regency, which is connected to the convention center (see below). Big Bar On 2, Market Street Cafe, and Outlaw Ink Custom Tattoos are among its other occupants.
170: Currently the US Bankruptcy Court Clerk. Up through at least October of ’01, though, it was Columbus Polarity Center.
144: Wall Street circa ’06. Mostly a lesbian bar, although they have boys’ nights on Wednesday. County-western Thursdays feature line dance lessons. Some nights they give out glo sticks to indicate your dating status. First Fridays are 21+ with free pizza, though otherwise they are oddly 19+. Closed Mon & Tue.
120: Barrel On High. In conjunction with a live music geared operation named Threes Above High (2203 N. High), these bars pride themselves on more of a down-n-dirty vibe. This downtown location focuses on food instead of music, and while the website itself has one of the lamest designs ever seen (no pictures, a plain black background), they do at least take online reservations, and post a full menu. These are actually both rare phenomenon even in these modern times. Threes, meanwhile, will send a bus out to pick you up, another great concept.
Prior to this incarnation, was once a place called Scarlet and Grey Cafe.
56 N. High Street: Was once a club called Brazenhead, as recent as (at least) October 2001. Is now a T-Mobile store.
30 N. High Street: Has been the Columbus HQ for the Church Of Scientology, since early 1998.
12-16 N. High Street
No longer in use. But from 1957-72, this was Benny Klein’s Charcoal Steak House. An offshoot of the Jack & Benny’s restaurant, which opened in ’54 and was located just around the corner, on High.
This one featured a rotating steak display in the streetside window where customers could select which cut they wanted. Also, perhaps more intriguingly, this steak house was connected to the other restaurant via tunnel. They also had this crazy sounding conveyor belt, connected and in use for both somehow for washing dishes. Also an artificial tree spanning two stories (take that, Andyman’s Treehouse!) and a 24 hour operation, at least initially.
Prior to this, the same location had different owners and was known as Nelson’s York Grill.
Panini’s Bar & Grill was another warmly recalled haunt, formerly located at the corner of High Street and West 10th Avenue on campus. We loved them because they not only served sandwiches late into the night, but didn’t even card at the door most nights. Sometimes you did have to endure a little smarminess from the help, but hey, that’s true almost anywhere in this town, particularly around campus.
“Why don’t you get a haircut consistent with the century you live in?” one clean cut, bespectacled wiseass of a bartender once challenged a friend of mine, during our first ever visit to the place, as soon as we sat down at the bar.
Still, Panini’s does grow on us. A moderately upscale joint near the southern tip of campus, it almost has the feel of a New York City deli – at least during the week. When the weekend comes all those tables in the center will find themselves jostled against the wall and a DJ’s bound to arrive, as this joint magically morphs into a dance club. One with pisspoor ventilation and even worse music, maybe, and yet this place works its way into our regular rotation just the same, regardless of the day.
We do have our favorites, but the OSU campus is generally too jampacked with entertainment to permit obsessing over just one place. Thus a number of months pass before we visit the establishment again, this time Alan and me transporting three girls we barely know, in my car on a weekend night. If not for the unrelenting monsoon, we surely would have walked, just like always, rather than attempt cramming into this not-so-spacious Ford Escort.
Parking in an alley on the building’s graffiti riddled posterior, we stride with purpose, with as much swiftness self-consciousness will allow, down to and along 10th. At the corner doorway, Alan and I crack up to discover that the blonde smartass with glasses, Matt, who famously dissed Damon’s haircut our only other visit here, is now stuck in a chair checking ID, only half sheltered from the rain.
So reserved in her living room and during the quick ride over, Deetra instantly reveals her true colors by disappearing into the modest, almost laughable, makeshift central floor, where tables are shoved aside to accommodate any booty shaking urges. The rest of us slide into a booth along the wall, with its bank of large, chest high windows swiveled open onto the sidewalk, level, suspended on flimsy arms. Stamped underage, Dawn sends Alan up to the bar with her money, to purchase them a shot of the unabashedly cinnamon Goldschlager, in addition to the beers we’re already cradling. Just a few moments pass and now she’s dispatching him off for another, though this time I accompany, nabbing no frills, though equally potent, shots of plain old vodka for Stephanie and myself.
I’m not sure precisely when this Panini’s bit the dust. Obviously, when Campus Partners breezed onto the scene, they knocked down every building on both sides of this block. I know Panini’s were around until at least 2000, however, as there’s this ad in Columbus Alive from January of that year. Apparently at this time, Revenge Entertainment Karaoke was setting up shop here every Saturday night. Though karaoke nights draw a fairly decent crowd, a shift from the dance club concept to this on Saturdays probably means that this place was already not quite as popular as it had been, during our heydays here just two or three years earlier.
Stop Rewind Fast Forward: 1993. (click to view/read more)
Pick up a copy of my latest music history tome, concerning that iconic year! Among the shows covered are a Primus and Smashing Pumpkins, both held at Newport Music Hall. Also the Lollapalooza stop at nearby Buckeye Lake, where local band Scrawl was on the bill, and Cbus musician Foley played as a member of Arrested Development.
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