GREENVILLE AVENUE FROM A TO Z

You can’t measure the breadth of Dallas’ best-known thoroughfare in miles. Greenville Avenue is no mere road. But the stuff of Greenville is sundry and surprising, not easily mapped. On Greenville you find everything, from aspiring artists and aerobic activists to zippy zakuskas (appetizers, that is) and zesty zinfandels.



Arcadia. This art deco theater on Upper Lowest Greenville has dodged the wrecking balls and made a new name for itself as a concert and special events facility. Booking acts as diverse as Jean-Luc Ponty and General Public, the Arcadia is a microcosm of the Greenville melting pot.



Bowley and Wilson’s. An institution -at least for tourists and college kids who can’t believe they said that-the outlaw comics remain forever young and forever blue, vending ear-scorching insult humor that makes Eddie Murphy sound like Bill Cosby.



Cardinal Puff’s. Once the official unofficial colors at Puffs were red, white, blue, pink and green. SMU kids practically held stock in the place, laying down their cares and their Vuarnets in the spring sun on Puff’s shady back patio and taking up pitchers of icy brew. A 21-year-old limit imposed several years ago has changed that somewhat, but Puff’s is still popular with everyone who can get in because it gives you what it gave the Pony People-the feeling you’re skipping class.



DiPalma. Hybrids grow wild on Greenville. Witness this place, an Italian restaurant/ grocery store/ wine shop on If-you-go-much-lower-you’ll-fall-off Greenville, south of Ross. Chow for the ciao crowd.



Esprit de Cure. How thorough Greenville can be! After you saturate your body with greasy munchies and batter it with sledgehammer drinks, you can rejuvenate yourself at this health food emporium and pharmacy. Nutritional planning and advice for allergy sufferers is also available.



Filling Station. Now back to the bars. Located just south of Park Lane, this used to be-that’s right-a filling station, and the pumps outside prove it. Unlike, say, Confetti, the Station is a theme bar with one theme. The walls are adorned with license plates and hub caps and the drinks come in oil cans.



Greenville Avenue Pocket Sandwich Theatre. Someone let art loose on Greenville. This tiny Lowest Greenville establishment serves up drama as well as dinner, lunch and eclectic atmosphere. The food is fine, the shows are hit and miss, but the overall effect is enchanting.

Hd’s Clothing. Retail, retail, what will you think of next? All bright colors and trendy European designs, this boutique for Lower Greenville youth (and the young at heart) blasts Eurobeat music while the eager spenders bop, bop, bop and buy, buy, buy.



I Can’t Believe It’s Yogurt. Required eating for SMU sorority girls who just love to know how few calories they’re consuming, courtesy of the big chart on the wall. So few, in fact, that they often celebrate their dieting victories by popping in next door to Crumbles for chocolate chip cookies.



John’s Café. Offering one of the cheapest and best breakfasts on the strip, this is a café where you can tell the Democrats from the Republicans by the newspapers they read.



Kirby’s. Classic. Big steaks for people who don’t get along with vegetarians. A Greenville landmark since 1954.



Little Gils’. Prime ammo in the war over what’s better, Lower or Upper Greenville, this makes them want to Rebel-yell for the South. You’ll find hamburgers at lunch, Greek food by night and friendly customers from the neighborhood all the time.



Maneuvers. Everything from personalized dog tags to Day-Glo paratrooper pants make this the one-stop PX for the soldiers of fad and fashion who pad Lower Greenville by day and march to a different drummer by night.



New Big Wong. For a Chinese menu that both challenges and delights, tanksful of eels and turtles (talk about fresh!) and baffling radio music that changes daily, you can slide into one of their high-backed green booths until 4 a.m. most days.



Ole Moon. This is the avenue at its most genteel, all pastel stationery, odd carved gifts and obscure vintage records.



Pinky’s. Punk-derived fashion shares the space with exotic hairdressing by exotic hairdressers who are very in the pink.



Quiet Man. Not only is this great bar not on Greenville, it’s plain not, sad to say. But it should have been on Greenville, and should it ever return, we’re sure Greenville can find a place for its low-key, jeans-and-a-shot atmosphere.



Raphael’s. Long before the advent of fa-jita fever and mesquite mania, this dependable bastion of Mexican basics got the stamp of approval from aficionados of such.



Stan’s Blue Note. This is strictly a man’s man’s bar, with no apologies to anyone who thinks a night out should consist of more than chugging some brews and hunching over a hot pool table.



TGI Friday’s. In this, the granddaddy of the singles scene, you’ll find a voluminous menu longer (and more interesting) than many best-selling novels, and a dizzying array of choices on the menu-such as omelettes with 46 optional ingredients. People still come here to pick up and be picked up, but real lechery seems almost quaint and tourist-like in a Friday’s.

U-Haul. U Came. U Partied. U tried to put down roots but u didn’t want to ’commit.’ Now u haul out to a new place where u can keep your options open. Maybe U rent a truck or trailer here.

Vickery Feed Store. Claims to be a

deli. Really a fancified sandwich shop. Food and service are excellent. What do we Tex-ans know about delis anyway?

Worldwide Food. We could never nominate Greenville Avenue for the International City’s International Strip if it didn’t have at least one exotic gourmet grocery store chock full of things like 13 varieties of olives, 80 Turkish spices and the only Valerichio Teri (a Greek feta cheese).

X-actly what it looks like. No street is perfect.

Your Graphics Are Showing. The same Village singles who flock to Old Town under cover of the night may be back the next day at Banana Republic, L.O. Ham-mon’s or this attractive frame and print shop which features the work of Southwest artists.

Zanzibar. This tiny, tony bar and restaurant on Lower Greenville is as hearty as it is pretty. At times the whole room seems to be in the midst of a single conversation, maybe about how unbearably crowded Greenville has become, maybe about the unbearably delicious white chocolate cheesecake.