For a moment I thought this place was in Farmington Hills and that I'd been there on a date a few years ago. (With a cute Jewish girl from Farmington Hills whose dad's a fairly prominent lawyer in metro Detroit. Deja vu.) Then I realized -- ah, Detroit. You sure it was "Driving While Punk" and not "Driving While White"?
My dad's sixtieth birthday party was at the Lafayette, I believe. He has absolutely no connexions to it (being from Georgia) but his wife went there a lot as a kid and since she was calling the shots at the party (she flew in about two dozen members of his family, rented a big bus to take 'em to the restaurant, and afterward took everyone back to their house where there was a three-foot-tall pile of Hostess cakes and Krispy Kreme donuts, in addition to this weird Russian chick, one of their neighbors, who kept hitting on me), that's where it was held. I spent most of the next day in the bathroom (got through about half the encyclopedia during my time in there), but it was worth it.
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My dad's sixtieth birthday party was at the Lafayette, I believe. He has absolutely no connexions to it (being from Georgia) but his wife went there a lot as a kid and since she was calling the shots at the party (she flew in about two dozen members of his family, rented a big bus to take 'em to the restaurant, and afterward took everyone back to their house where there was a three-foot-tall pile of Hostess cakes and Krispy Kreme donuts, in addition to this weird Russian chick, one of their neighbors, who kept hitting on me), that's where it was held. I spent most of the next day in the bathroom (got through about half the encyclopedia during my time in there), but it was worth it.