Chapter 23: Coffeehouse mis-en-scene

After the quality of coffee, or quite possibly equal to it, the ambience and surroundings of a coffee shop are priority. Such surroundings are what makes one go out and seek a cup of coffee instead of just doing so at home.

The Raven is like the Los Angeles of Blade Runner. It is crowded and there is a lot to see but damn it if it isn’t a lot of great stuff to see. Books are everywhere, esoteric pop culture posters adorn the walls, and other ephemera are scattered. The lighting is low and the music is (usually) just right. The place started off like that and it has only grown over time.

The Bean and Brew on the other hand was barren. The walls were dark, the lighting was nearly non-existent. I imagine if Axl Rose ever decided to open a coffeehouse it would look an awful lot like the Bean and Brew. I wish there was more to describe but I can’t elaborate on nothingness.

The clientele at each shop also varied to the extremes. While I may not like a lot of people at either place chances were that I would find a kindred sprit at the Raven. The Bean and Brew on the other hand would be a place of silence. I remember going there years ago to meet up with some people to film a scene in a movie. Nobody knew each other at the Bean and Brew but when it was found out that everyone there at that moment was all there to film that scene it spoke volumes of the awkward nature of the place. Nobody was open there. Nobody shared and nobody connected.

But if there was something the Bean and Brew had was the upstairs. Off-limits to everyone except if a band was playing, I was privileged to be able to go up there a few times.

The place was amazing. There was junk all over the place. Broken glass was on the floor. The windows were huge and stylized. I was able to go up there back when RJ and Matt were playing there on a weekly basis. I filmed them up there playing some tunes, writing, and chatting. That was the atmosphere that the place should have had. It was like a haunted house that I could roam around in safely.

Probably the last time that RJ and Matt played at the Bean and Brew I tried to go upstairs. I was stopped by the owner. Even though I was permitted to by the band and had done so on numerous occasions I was unable to go upstairs. At the time the owner seemed to be trying his best to make sure that any greatness that his place achieved over time was sucked dry as fast as possible.

That was the last time I willingly went there. That day, a lot of people stopped going.

Why? Come back tomorrow. I promise.

Chapter 22: The Coffee Shop Wars of 2002-2007

I am back from the hiatus. Let's rock!

***

In early fall 2002 the second issue of the ESG featured a cover story on the sneak opening of the Raven Coffeehouse. It would not officially open for another 2 months or so but this was the culmination of about 10 years of renovations. The Raven itself is deserving of an epic and that will come in time.

Meanwhile, another shop just a half mile or so north on Military street was brewing (pun intended) for about 5 years. The Bean and Brew was off Military and on Quay street. It was a smaller place than the Raven but pretty much tried to do the same thing as the Raven. It opened a little under a year after the Raven in the latter part of 2003. In my observations it started off slow and only tapered off from there.

To compare the two using X-Men references, if the Raven was Juggernaut then the Bean and Brew was surely a crippled Morlock fighting the flu.

I was at the Raven quite a bit during the first year and a half of its operation. And since I've always been about revitalizing downtown Port Huron I gave the Bean and Brew a go a few times. Never once did I really like being there in a non-live music environment. Barring any problems I had with its proprietor I cannot 100% pin down why I did not like the place. But that is for another entry.

Then in early 2004 an internet cafe opened up. I never went there mainly because by the time it opened I was deep into the newspaper and any free time for such fun went on at the Raven.

So by mid-2004 there were 3 coffeehouses competing with each other.

Before the internet cafe opened I was seriously considering starting a betting pool as to how long the Bean and Brew would last. The relatively few times I even went in there I probably accounted for 33-50% of the customers there. The atmosphere wasn't too inviting and the coffee...well...wasn't exactly brewed. It was powder quickly mixed with hot water. And it was never that good of coffee either. I affectionately dubbed it the "Powder and Moisturize" thereafter and achieved a modicum of fame for it.

Probably the best thing to come out of the internet cafe was the press release that was done by someone at the Times Herald who has probably never had a cup of coffee in their lives (how you can work on a newspaper and be downing 10 pots of it a day is beyond me though). The press release, to the best of my memory, stated that you could go into the internet cafe and quench your thirst with an espresso. It doesn't take a genius to know that coffee doesn't qualify as a thirst quencher and a concentrated version of it doesn't do much better either.

The Powder and Moisturize though was something. It was just a room that had the barest minimum of lighting but a lot of seating that was ALWAYS available. I'm glad that I never did start that betting pool though as I know I would have lost a lot of money because it was an awful lot like David Spade; we try hard to make sure it stops but for some reason stays around.

The internet cafe was closed by 2005. The Bean and Brew had its final toll last year. It closed down for a little while under the pretense that it would reopen, as I understand it, as a jazz club.

Now you can walk by the former location of it and see that it is for sale or rent.

The Raven though has proven popular enough that it will (if it hasn't already) serve some alcohol.

How did it all come to this?

Stay tuned.

Chapter 21: Epilogue

Yeah, sorry about that hiatus. I had personal affairs to take care of and the blog suffered. I am now back for a little while with a little help from a friend.

Now, I put a close to the Denny's epic.

***

I remember when it finally came clear to me; I can recall that special moment of clarity after I hit rock bottom. It was so obvious; like a elephant in the room: Denny’s was an addiction.

I had gotten hooked on the every aspect of this place no matter what the cost. I used to spend all my money on greasy food and coffee and I seldom got enough sleep. Nothing seemed to matter as much as being there did. I had it: a greasy, nicotine stained monkey on my back. I guess that it started out innocently enough but soon snowballed into something far more sinister.

Just like any other addiction I had developed a tolerance over time. It started out small. I had to drink two cups of coffee to perk me up when the normal one cup would have done me fine. No big deal right? Refills are free so what’s it going to hurt? Soon I was slamming down their caffeinated mud quicker than water.

I had also developed a tolerance for other parts of the Denny‘s experience. I could now slam down cold fried cheese that would gag a sow and keep a grin on my face the whole time. Second hand smoke didn’t bother me much anymore and I couldn’t smell it nearly as often.

Then I moved away.

I found myself living in Detroit, with no 24 hour diners nearby. My friends had no interest in sipping coffee until 4 in the morning anymore, and my job really wasn’t conducive to staying out that late. My body began to go back to normal.

I remember going back there about a year ago and sitting down in a booth alone. I didn’t really know anyone else there, I just sat there and read a book quietly. After my first cup of coffee I felt my knee bounce to a rhythm only I could hear. I ordered a Moons over My Hammy thinking that it might not be the worst thing on the menu.

I sat there alone, ate my dinner and waited for someone to happen to me.

The old friends were gone, and the only dialogue I could have was with myself.

I sighed.

It was late and I could feel the bags under my eyes as I noticed that it was now midnight. It was time to leave.

I walked up to the counter and paid my bill, the cashier asked if I would be coming back anytime soon. I just chuckle to myself and left a good tip to match my excellent service.

A few hours later a felt my stomach being ripped apart by the greasy food and caffeine; my clothes stank of cigarette smoke. I just didn’t have the tolerance anymore.

***

I’m not at Denny’s much any more. There is really no way for me to do so. I live near many nightspots now and I can’t go to the Fort Gratiot Denny’s as much as I want to. It is too out of the way for me and at this point there is hardly even a handful of people that are at the Denny’s to make frequent trips worth it. That is not to say that the people I hang out with at Denny’s now isn’t worth it; rather, I can’t just make a trip up there when I know that I have many better options down here in the metro Detroit area.

What Denny’s means to me now is something more though. Over the past few years I’ve noticed many of the integral locations where I grew up have either been torn down, shut down, or drastically changed. The coffee shop where I fell in love with my ex is now an internet café. The ESG as I knew it has been replaced by the new library at SC4. These places are leaving and it does sadden me that once in a while I can’t go to the places that are valuable to me in that they were part of my evolution from the loudest shy person in the world to someone who isn’t shy enough.

But Denny’s is still around. I do not see it going anywhere. The nostalgia trip that I get when I walk in is worth it. It is in a state of arrested development and I want it kept that way. If I want to sit at a table and remember what I did at that table 6 years ago I can. If I want to be there late to get some inspiration for a crazy writing project I can do it there.

Denny’s represents some of the best of my past and it is one of the few still-operating places I can think of that I can go to. Because once in a while you have to go home.

***

Spring break is next week. I will be posting. So be here!

Chapter 20: Denny's Rex

May 2005 A.R.

It was the end of my time at U of M Flint. With summer vacation upon me I concentrated on my job at the video store. But I found myself without having to deal with things like “French homework” and “crappy American literature.” I had a lot more money suddenly because I was working more hours at the video store and spending less money having to drive to Flint 3 days a week. Having had such a rough year emotionally, physically, and academically, I figured there was only one place to return to.

During my year in Flint I tried to go to Port Huron when I had the chance. There were times it would be weeks between trips. Sometimes there would be a trip once a week. But nothing was to the point I could integrate myself into any meaningful social situation for very long. I would always have to return home quick.

But now, now was different. I was able to return to see the people that made Port Huron great. And I did it at the caffeinated, smoky womb of Denny’s.

While I was gone I noticed that the group of people I hung out with got bigger. There were some new faces that were around. Eddie, Mike, and some others became part of the crew. What more, they weren’t douche bags. Well, there was one but I won’t get into that. The point is that these people were interesting. I care deeply for those I have close to me but to have the group grow like that while I was gone was astounding.

While Denny’s became the focal point for some social gatherings we expanded. With RJ and Matt “touring” various venues in the surrounding counties we followed. Each time we went to what was sure to be the prime late-night diner and brought havoc in our wake. We stayed, annoyed the wait staff, ordered little food, drank a lot of coffee, and made obscene drawings on placemats.

It felt good to be home again. But this isn’t Denny’s I’m talking about exactly, is it?

This is a spiritual thing. While location does matter it is the spirit of the gathering that makes it the best. If there is a running theme in all the posts of this epic is that it is the people I am with that makes the difference more than the actual restaurant. Denny’s is important mainly because it is open all day every day. But it is about who we are with. I may go by myself some nights but I don’t like to stick around.

I realize that this can possibly lend itself to herd mentality. I could quote an obvious song from the Beatles right now but I won’t.

I’m wondering now if Denny’s is just an abstraction. Did I or anyone need Denny’s? Is the spiritual quality of it mobile? For if other restaurants can have that same spirit then I’d like to think that such spirit has mobility.

But Denny’s is important. If I could just go anywhere for a late night fix I would. But Denny’s has a good chunk of my memories encased in its walls.

Spirit may be mobile but memories are fixed.

***

Epilogue tomorrow.

Chapter 19: "This is the end"

“The procession moves on, the shouting is over
The fabulous freaks are leaving town.”
- ”The Carnival is Over” by Dead Can Dance

It was May 8, 2004. I had finished my last class at SC4 a mere two days prior. I had graduated in December but I stayed on for various reasons dealing with finances, school, and the ESG.

It would also be, for me, the death knell of my time at Denny’s.

My attendance had been slipping in the previous months. I would maybe make it once a month, if that at all. The crew diminished. While the turnover rate for the wait staff had always been high it increased in this time. I didn’t know anybody. Granted, it wasn’t like I was inviting them out for weekend binges or anything. I was still at least familiar to the staff enough that at times I wouldn’t have to say anything and a coffee would come my way.

It was after Birchwood Cinema’s showing of Top Gun. That showing also marked the end of another era but that will be covered another time.

RJ and I were joined by a few others at Denny’s. We took the standard back roads to Denny’s from the Mall. For the uninitiated, the mall and Denny’s are about a mile apart but various back roads for apartments and parking lot connections allow for a quick back way to Denny’s. (WARNING: ESOTERIC REFERENCE AHEAD!) I used to love to travel this. Being the chicken-eater I am I love back doors. Tonight though that magic was gone. I didn’t get that thrill of doing something different like I used to.

I cannot even remember who else I was with that night. There was nobody at the tables nearby. The fact that I cannot even recall who else I was with that night speaks volumes. I usually have pretty good recall but it must not have even been that significant for me to remember. We sat in the non-smoking section on the opposite side of the room we normally would have. Cliché as it is it was raining that night.

Nobody said much of anything that night. There were things to discuss but silence was the theme of the night. We sat and drank our coffees in a void and left. It wasn’t a bang, it wasn’t a whimper. There was nothing.

For me, this end was unspoken but I knew it was happening. I was going to go to U of M Flint in the fall and would no longer be in Port Huron and the surrounding area 4-6 days a week.

While this epic may be motivated by nostalgia and a spiritual return to my roots there is something else to approach. It is always a good idea to know when the end is at hand. While I am one of many that may stay at Denny’s long after any reasonable time on any given night there comes a time to say goodbye. Denny’s served its purpose for me when it needed to.

But the value I had invested into it was gone that night. Over the ensuing summer I returned once or twice. But it was similar the time I saw Cold play at St. Andrew’s Hall and Dope opened up for them. Dope destroyed Cold. That’s what the summer was like. The initial time at Denny’s was the killer opener. Any time after that was just pathetic. We could try to recapture the magic but at that point it was just going through the motions.

While it is always nice (and to a degree, necessary) to look back on the past it is never a good idea to try and reenact it. That is how depression starts. The longing for something that once was there and is now gone and trying to go through the motions in hopes that the elusive feeling will return.

It was my time to leave my late-night caretaker. I didn’t know when I would return but I didn’t plan on it being soon.

***

You really don’t think this is the end of the epic, do you? Stay tuned for the happy ending in the coming days!

Chapter 18: Exodus

Like ducks leaving a pool or geese going back to Canada, us children of the night must move on at some point.

For me, the move came nearly 4 years ago when it came time to leave SC4 for the greyer pastures of U of M Flint.

Over the summer I went to visit my friend Steve at Denny’s. He was back in town for a little while and I hadn’t seen him since the previous November. I alone sat in a corner booth meant for 7 or 8 people, waiting for Steve and possibly a feminine companion.

Steve arrived minutes after I did. It was around 11 pm and we didn’t leave until about 4 am. We chatted about dreams for writing and film, life, and all other topics that make Denny’s the place to go so that these feelings can be reconciled.

We were the only really talkative group at Denny’s that night. If it was 2003 we would be one of many. Now it was just us. There were a few trashy couples around, some kids, and once in a while some people our age would very briefly come around and sit. With such a lack of people around coffee refills came plentiful and often. Steve hitting on the waitress certainly helped as well.

It was at once sad and uplifting. Sad because, as previously stated, years ago the place would have been packed with our people. Even if we didn’t know them they were cut from a similar deep black cloth. Now there wasn’t anyone around that we knew to greet.

I’ve heard a theorem that states that at the age of 21-23 will leave Denny’s and cause an age gap. But people around 30 will gather there to relive the old days and catch up. I cannot say that I believe such an idea to hold true. Otherwise on any given night walking into the Denny’s it would be easy to talk to people and not feel like I’m looking down on the dregs.

I left when I had to. Some of my friends have left. Some are trapped in town for good reasons. Others are trapped because of their own devices. The girl I talked about in the last chapter falls into the latter and I feel sorry about her.

At no point during our roughly 5 hours in the same spot did Steve and I get told to move. There were no large groups coming in. Nobody stayed but for us. We had the place to ourselves and while it did have its perks it felt lonely. Is there someplace else we don’t know about? Do people have other places to go? Or do they sleep?

Of course, we all must recognize the time to move on. But I like to think that some traditions will carry on. Certain things must end and certain people must go but some traditions I think should survive. I was not part of the first generation of Denny’sens and I really do not wish to be part of the last generation. An article still passed out in SC4’s Newswriting course by Mr. Lusk is a story about a generation of Denny’s dwellers dating to the mid-to-late nineties. A similar drop in attendance happened but it did make a comeback.

I realize all good things must come to an end but they have to return once in a while.

Chapter 17: X

Welcome back to “week 2” of the Denny’s epic. Again, I do not feel that the amount of stories I have to be told about Denny’s is at an end yet. I guarantee that this epic will end when it needs to. This isn’t Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World’s End and I’m not going to just keep going without purpose.

Anyways, onto the cliffhanger of last Friday.

***

It has been well established by now that Denny’s is the polis’s real night spot. We all converge there when necessary and stay as longer than we probably should. As such, the people that do converge there are often friends. Even if they are just acquaintances it is nice to walk up to someone and greet them. This is one place where we can all gather.

Because of its reputation as the singular late-night spot it also means the possibility of running into people I or others may be on good terms with.

The possibility of running into an enemy somewhere public is always around. I just witnessed it about 2 weeks ago when I went to the Cass Café with a friend. But with the Fort Gratiot Denny’s being the spot for the whole polis that means that once in a while I will see someone that I don’t get along with very well.

As last year was ending I went to Denny’s with my friend Josh and his friend Sadat. I had recently met Sadat over the Thanksgiving break after years of hearing about him, hearing his tunes, and seeing rather infamous videos featuring him. So it was neat to finally meet the legend and hang out once in a while.

I was enjoying a small portion of hash browns with a coffee as we sat and chatted about whatever it was. We were seated by a window and I took the seat at the booth so I would be facing the door. I like to know who is coming into Denny’s and maybe once in a while see a friend or know if any enemies may walk in. I like to know my surroundings.

As I ate I took a look at who was around. One table behind me was obstructed from my line-of-sight but I noticed there were people there. I took a closer look to see who was there.

Looking right back at me was the one “rebound girlfriend” I ever had.

(NOTE: I will not name who this is. At least I do not think that I will. I might. For now though I will not.)

The first break-up I had with my ex was back in October 2003 on a Thursday. We would et back together a month and a half later but it was rough for a day. This happened the day before the first public performance of Our Town at SC4. I had 2 parts in the play and I thought it was going to be hard.

After the first performance she started being really flirty with me. I had met her a few months before but it wasn’t at SC4 but rather at my job in Utica when she bought something from me.

At the first performance was some guy that had a crush on her but she didn’t like. She didn’t want him around and needed someone to pretend to be her boyfriend so he would leave her alone. Personally, I wasn’t looking for anyone since I was obviously still heartbroken. I didn’t let it affect my performance though.

This girl was insistent that she do my make-up for the show. I had two characters to play with varied states of aging so I had to have a bit of make-up done for my parts. I had never been in make-up before but I was pretty sure that nobody else in the production had a make-up artist’s legs wrapped around them. I didn’t think anything of it despite how odd it certainly looked.

It was after the show and it was decided that I would be the faux boyfriend. The ruse worked and he backed off. But by the end of the night I found myself quite interested in this girl. Even though she was 18 and I was 21 I thought she was cute. It certainly got my mind off the bad that was happening.

After the show that night we went to the Raven. We were sitting on the balcony with one of her friends. After a few minutes she shot her friend a look that said “get out of here now”. After her friend complied she took a deep breath and planted one square on the lips. There was some more kissing that night and I found myself go from fake boyfriend to real one.

We saw quite a bit of each other over the next two or three days. She was nice but I was finding out that we had little, if anything, in common. It seemed we enjoyed each other’s company. She tried to dedicate a 112 song to me on 95.5 that Monday. While I would rather have had a song from U2 dedicated to me I decided not to be picky.

The following days though she became the complete opposite. She was flirting with my friend Steve a lot. In my office.

A lot of things quickly built up between us and culminated for me during a completely useless 3 hour trip to Birchwood Mall where she was trying on clothes the entire time. And it wasn’t even that she was trying on clothing so much that she was actively teasing me with what she was wearing. I wasn’t interested in sex but she was being a tease and I never like that in a woman. Coupling that with the flirting with Steve I was getting mad. I decided that “date” to see Mallrats at the mall that Friday would be our last time together. While it is a little more complex than that for the sake of brevity I’ll leave it at that.

The Thursday before Mallrats she broke it off with me. Though we decided to go to Mallrats together still it didn’t end up being that way. We were at the Raven with RJ and the time to actually get to the movie was rapidly approaching. She was flirting with a guy that was easily 10-15 years older than her and I decided it wasn’t worth waiting for her. RJ and I left her there. She came about 15 minutes after the movie started.

I did find it interesting that within one week I had two women break up with me.

A few times we’d see each other around and we’d say hi. But I eventually found out that she was really interested in Steve. Steve was never interested in her and partially because of her treatment of me he became less interested.

But last winter our eyes locked for only a second or two. We recognized each other and went back to our respective parties. Even if it was only a second that we shared the mutual gaze it felt like I could have watched the entirety of Arrested Development.

Josh and Sadat insisted I go talk to her. I didn’t want to. They said I was being too scared but I wasn’t. I had nothing to say to her. I’ve barely even scratched the surface of what happened here.

I stayed where I was and continued having a good time with Josh and Sadat.

Some time after we finished our food she passed by our table to leave. She didn’t look back at me. I’m glad. Other than this post, I don’t look back either.

***

This relationship at least had the controversy to make it to a blog posting. It is a very histrionic post and even if I may have displayed some hints of immaturity I stand by the principles. It is certainly fun to read Rashomon-style stories though with this one in particular having wild inaccuracies occurring as frequent as "objects-thrown-into-crotch" in a Ben Stiller movie.