Young and the restless
Part 2
by Kristen Lombardi
Saturday night, and the scene at Brew City on Shrewsbury Street is hip,
hip, hip. Young people with sculpted hair and suede jackets huddle at the bar,
sipping pints of amber ale. Waiters serve shrimp alfredo and mahi-mahi, as
bartenders pour micro-brewed beer exported from Vermont, Oregon, even
Washington state.
Make no mistake. Brew City oozes conviviality, in a refined way. And this is
why young professionals have claimed it as their own.
"It's one of the few places I go to," says Tania Barsotti, supervisor of an
adolescent center. The sleek 23-year-old with obsidian eyes goes there because
"it isn't crowded, noisy, or packed with drunk college kids. It has an eclectic
menu, and I never run into underage kids I used to baby-sit for."
Setting, in other words, rules supreme. People, naturally, gravitate toward
places where they can socialize with like-minded people. No wonder young
professionals rattle off the same places when asked where to go for fun. (Brew
City, Cafe Dolce, and East Park Grill for atmosphere. Sir Morgan's Cove,
Plantation Club, and Ralph's Diner for live, rock music.)
Trendy does become stale, however, so young people also rely on longtime
establishments for guaranteed satisfaction. Jeffrey Cozzolino, a 31-year-old
attorney, ends up at the Boynton Family Restaurant on Highland Street more
times than he cares to admit. There, young people likely wear flannel, order
sandwiches, and nestle into a booth beside a family of four.
"There's nothing terribly attractive about the [Boynton]. It's a place where
you can sit down, relax, and have a drink," says Cozzolino.
Too many Saturday nights, he finds himself back there, munching on
Cajun-spiced fries and swigging Sam Adams beer. As with many Worcester hot
spots, the Boynton's won over social appetites of young people by default.
Young professionals tolerate select places, because everything else in town
caters to someone else. To truly satisfy the urge for fun and excitement, they
head toward Boston, Providence, and Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
Some, believe it or not, even prefer the streets of Springfield.
"There's more stuff to do there than here," explains Kristy Kedian, 24, a case
worker for troubled teens. In fairness, Kedian might not be as keen on
Springfield if her boyfriend resided elsewhere. Even so, when it comes to
social scenes for young people, she thinks Springfield has more to offer.
No doubt, excitement is relative. What one person considers amusing, another
regards as atrocious, which is why young people (including Worcester loyalists)
point to "choices" as the city's problem. Simply put, they don't feel as if
they have many.
"You go to the same places, which attract the same people and play the same
music," says Barsotti, who, instead, gallivants in Boston.
Cozzolino, who lived in Los Angeles before returning to his hometown, is more
blunt: "A night out in Worcester is pathetic. I end up at the same places.
Mostly, I don't go out anymore."
Frustration is an understatement. To grasp such attitudes, consider cities
young professionals find attractive -- Boston, Cambridge, Amherst. All have
concentrated commercial districts, replete with street-level shops, bars,
restaurants, theaters, bookstores. The list goes on.
Young people can stroll down sidewalks, dip into shops, and sit at outdoor
cafes sipping espresso. Or, they might lounge on a bench and listen to street
musicians.
They sense vitality in the air. They walk around at night and feel safe. And,
perhaps most important, they have fun without a specific plan.
"In Worcester, you don't go out unless you've got some place to go. There's no
place to hang out and people watch. There's no opportunity for spontaneous
fun," explains Kedian.
Young professionals have a dream, too. They imagine Worcester as being
pedestrian-friendly, with wider sidewalks and green space, as offering an array
of places where they can spend money -- with a vitality, they emphasize, that
is visible on its streets.
"Young people want to see this city alive, flourishing with activity on the
streets," says Jennifer Splaine, 26, an entrepreneur with a smile as bold as
her blonde hair. The dream seems remote to Splaine, who adds, "People can't
play a guitar on the street without [trouble], for god sakes."
Of course, no one enjoys complainers, not even young people. Splaine's
listened to colleagues gripe about this city many times, but after living in
San Francisco for six years, a place rife with "young persons everywhere doing
something entrepreneurial," she says, Splaine isn't one to sit around
dissatisfied.
Splaine and Elaine Lavin, 27, borrowed money and transformed a drab, empty
Main Street storefront into a trendy, coffee-and-juice bar -- serving the
latest, Chai tea.
"Nobody was bringing out the life in Worcester," says Lavin, who designed the
interior of the Buzz Bar at 120 Main Street. Lavin's capitalized on the theme,
stringing bee-shaped lights throughout.
"We wanted to give young people something different, colorful, bright, and
cheerful," she adds.
The Buzz Bar opened four months ago, but has yet to capture young people's
attention -- especially at night. Splaine and Lavin tried serving up
cappuccinos on weekends, only to discover a dismal scene.
Not surprisingly, the Buzz Bar has changed its operating hours, catering now
to the working crowd. This along with the closings of Bar Mexico and Main
Street Brewery suggests that a demand for upscale alternatives where young
professionals can eat, drink, and socialize doesn't really exist in Worcester.
Young professionals have a different theory, however.
"People my age are so frustrated with bars opening, closing they don't give
Worcester a chance anymore. They assume nothing is here for them and go
elsewhere," says Sykorski, the new New Yorker.
Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com