The Five Points Special

Alas, towns change. Stores open. Then they close. Big business comes to Five Points in spite of hurting the mom and pop local pubs, coffee shops and retail locations. Sometimes it can be a good thing, but many times it has long time residents lingering with the memories of "the way it was..."

When I was a Sophomore in college I lived with two roommates on the top floor of an old, brick professor's apartment building on Blossom St., until the 3rd girl moved off the Hall and into the eaves of our wall...a mere storage space that we coined "the Nook." I bounced checks at Wachovia, rented disco boots at OEO, shopped at Luna when all they really carried was Free People, ate gelati and drank coffee at Adriana's, and bought gifts at Joyful Alternative. I can smell the patchouli scented candles now. We did our laundy at Soaps (the Good Time laundy!) and drank Mr. Pibb. We sunned ourselves and ate Fla-vo-Ice at the park on Blossom. We were a little young for the bar scene, but once in a while snuck into Sharkey's and drank Midori Sours - as if that did not give away our age! I got busted for underage drinking at Tammeny Hall during a fraternity event and cringed as everyone watched me get my ticket from above. Another thing I learned was not to trust men with green hair and blinking buttons on St. Patty's day, for they are police that will take you to Kenny's Auto Supply and take your ID. However, the Asian liquor store down Harden will still sell to you. I dreamed of being old enough to drink outside at Rough Draft. That was the coolest.

My friends and I worked odd jobs: I sold beer to the box seats at Bombers Stadium and never learned the table numbers as a hostess as CBC and Harpers (we were required to heavy starch our shirts so I took aerisole hairspray and ironed them.) My girlfriends (poorly) slung salsa at Monterrey Jacks*, worked the baby room at The Firm, or served drinks to "old people" at Willy's. We went to class in overalls and baseball caps and took our dogs to the river. We cut a hole in the fence between Blossom and Harden so we could sneak up the hill to class. I still drove and received a merciful amount of parking tickets. So much so that my car was towed.

One thing we did not do much is cook. Other than Rago with chicken (?!!) in which we rarely did the dishes...many a plate, pot, or cup was thrown away. Sorry Mom and Dad! We did sometimes eat. If it wasn't at our place of work (I was allowed one hot dog per game but I got in good with all the stands and would sometimes have three!!!), we hit up cheap local dives.

For late night food it was Franks Hot Dog stand. The burger with the works, corndogs with ketchup and mustard, and the fried mushrooms rocked. How we did not get arrested for pulling our car up curbside beats me!? Our all time favorite place to eat was New York Bagel. For under $4 would would get a yummy sandwich and drink and read up on the Crime Blotter, etc in the Free Times. Blonde Appetit hearts NYBagel. I remember there were all those over-used pictures of men sitting on newly constructed high rises and panoramic views of NYC. I loved the sandwich that consisted of an everything bagel with chive cream cheese and turkey. We also loved the Gamecock, which I recall being a hot sandwich with turkey, roast beef, and provolone cheese. Those were the days when bagels were low fat and no-one counted carbs. Did we really even care?

Goodbye old Five Points...I will remember you fondly.**

*The Five Points Special was my all-time favorite sandwich and it was served at Monterrey Jacks. It was similar to many of the Turkey/Roast Beef "Original" Sandwiches found at restaurants in Five Points, but with a twist. It was served on a hoagie roll with cheese and real bacon, and seasoned fries. It had the best dipping sauce, a spicy ranch. And they served Mr. Pibb. We had a thing for Mr. Pibb. I once had the crummiest day and rushed home to eat my leftover Five Points Special. I came through the back door and saw my two roomies sitting on the couch. I shared with them the whoas of my day and how all that would make it better was my yummy sandwich. I dismissed their blank expressions and walked over to the fridge. Empty. I had made it home minutes after two thieves had inhaled my precious goodness. Where was my sandwich you ask? The world will never know.

**I stand corrected: The STP from Groucho's was a staple breakfast/lunch/dinner choice. A secret to a better STP: ask for "real" bacon under the cheese. So glad they bottled the 45 sauce. Although I let it remain a guilty pleasure for only when I dine in. I know the recipe is secret, but I also know it is so bad for you, it's good. p.s. two words: ball ice.