There are really two Broad Ripples. There's the Broad Ripple Village I write about often, the one of parks and bicycle shops and bistros and boutiques, a placid, tree-lined, artsy urban enclave full of yuppies, DINKS, starter families, and retirees. And then there's the other Broad Ripple.
The other Broad Ripple is the Strip, centered right along Broad Ripple Avenue proper, home of Chumley's and The Wild Beaver Saloon, live concerts at The Vogue, and the Axe-body-spray-scented, sorority-shrieking meat market of Brothers. Pretty much every night, and especially weekend nights, the area around the strip is infested with college-age revelers stumbling, knee-walking drunk, back to their cars.
And when you chum the water, you attract sharks. Bobbi and I were just talking about the Broad Ripple Robber last night while running errands, and now I wake up this morning to see that it looks like he's stepped up his game to include rape.
Stay alert, stay alive.