Greektown Closes Most Doors at Midnight This Summer
Once, All the Greeks in Greektown Danced Village Dances on Stage at the Bouzouki
Sunday, June 3rd, 2023 at 2:51 PM
Grosse Pointe Park Public Library
Grosse Pointe Park, Michigan
I try to keep my transportation costs low. In a perfect week, all my travels cost me twenty-two dollars and fifty cents. That’s the cost of a full-price weekly pass, good for DDOT and SMART buses. I bought this ticket on my Android phone, using Token Transit. I have bought the weekly ticket since October. I make good use of the pass. On Friday of last week, I boarded eight buses. Since the end of September, I have spent 800 dollars on bus transportation.
Alas, last night, I got stranded. I had walked all the way from the David Whitney Building at Grand Circus Park to Greektown because only the Six seemed to be running at that hour. The Groovy Gratiot Bus 6 promised to come a few minutes to Midnight. The run was canceled. I was sitting on an improvised bench outside the Frank Murphy Hall of Justice. A Detroiter asked me, “How long do I have to wait?”
I looked it up on the Transit App.
“You got forty-three minutes, but there’s no guarantee.”
The Detroiter called a friend, asking for a ride. I’ve seen this solution happen more than once when a DDOT bus cancels. I paged an Uber, but the request went unanswered.
So I thought, “I might as well have some fun in Greektown.” I walked to the corner of Beaubien and Monroe. The Detroit Police Department had shut down the street for Midnight.
“For the casino, use the side door,” offered the officer. I have yet to meet a Detroit blue who was less than polite.
I arrived at the door of the casino. Only the card-carrying members of the players club were allowed to pass the security desk.
“I have a card on file.”
“Sorry, we’re not issuing cards at this time.”
I remember one time a place that stayed open all night, serving eggs and hash browns and the like. I went looking for one like this in Bricktown. I found Nikki’s open, but the house only wanted to provide carryout service. My feet felt like bricks. My knees barked at me with every step. I wanted to sit down, have a drink and wait until the streets of Greektown no longer looked like a parking lot.
I found a place on Monroe that had an open bar and a welcome. I paid the five dollar cover after the guard ran a wand over me. The wand picked up a penny I had picked off the street.
I asked the coat checker, “Hey, what time do all the people go home from Greektown?”
“They’ll be tying up the streets with Escalades until Four in the morning.”
“FML, thanks.”
I sat down near the stage. This space has long been known for dancing. Late at night, all the Greeks in Greektown showed up after closing down the restaurant and danced village dances on the stage. It was like living out the dance scenes from Zorba the Greek.
The dance hall has changed since then.
A waiter came over to my table. “Might I offer you a cocktail.”
I ordered a really expensive bottle of water. But it came in a pretty bottle. I didn’t want to be lectured about the two drink minimum.
I tried Uber again. Uber offered to take me home for twenty-eight dollars, double the usual fare. I didn’t want to just go home. I wanted to be extricated.
I punched the “Find My Ride” button. “We’re finalizing the details of your journey.” The map zoomed in and out. I saw car icons, all of them representing drivers close to me. All of the drivers nearby were thinking, “Greektown streets are a parking lot.” And refusing the call.
So I don’t know why a driver all the way out in Grosse Pointe hit the freeway to come and pick me up. But it looked like a driven driver. I started to enjoy the house music. Was it “You Better Work” by RuPaul?
An entertainer arrived at my table. “Might I join you?”
“Drink before you get thirsty.” My expensive bottle of water remained unopened. My new friend opened and drank deeply.
“I’m waiting for an Uber, so I don’t wish to take up your precious time.
“I don’t mind. I’ve got a minute.”
“Up to you. I’ll be honest. First minute I saw you I thought, ‘There’s a Josephine Baker.’”
“You have a good eye!” Josephine gave me an extravagant hug and sashayed to a “happy couples booth”. Guests had arrived.
“What’s the matter? You look upset?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s a nice vibe in here and I’m spoiling the party. Greektown has melted down. My Uber is almost here, heading this way on Lafayette. And I don’t know if it will get through.”
“Relax. You worry too much.”
“I do. Thanks for the advice. I am going to walk Lafayette until I meet my driver.”
“I’m always here after Nine. Come by when you have time to relax.”
“Thanks”. Seriously, I hadn’t walked into that business in twenty years. I really was looking for bacon and eggs.
I crossed Beaubien. My phone rings.
“Hey, are you the guy in the khakis walking in the turn lane?”
“That would be me.”
My driver pulled up. We did the U-turn at Beaubien and Lafayette and sped off for the I-75 on ramp.
“I feel like I’m driving the Grand Prix!”
“Get me home, and you’ll get a Grand Prix all right.”
