02-08-03
| Summary | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Our first crawl, test case, prototype, maybe an announcement of this page to a world at large; Olde Town was a lot of things, it was important. Brian wasn't sold on the idea of moving around once drinking had commenced, but Matt had fond memories of past outings in this tradition, and pushed this idea along. We spent a Sunday afternoon in early January walking daylit King Street, scouting territory and making notes, going into so many appetizing bars an leaving without ordering anything, but such is our dedication! We issued general alerts to everyone we knew; friends and friends of friends, whether they knew it or not we were building a cadre. And finally it was Saturday, February 8th, one day after a snowfall put DC on a long coffee break. It was cold and there was ice on the ground and we'd slip and fall throughout the night, but for a few hours we were together, 29 people unburdened of the weekday chill and thriving by the hearth of Alexandria's many liquor licenses. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The Plan | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| The general plan was this - people could drive or Metro in to the start. The first bar, Stellas, was right by the metro station, easy to find. From there, we would plod and drink our way until six hours and many beers later we'd end up right by the Potomac. We would arrange to have a car or two by the finish within which there would be doughnuts, OJ and water (maybe coffee too). That way, folks could sober up and we could give them a lift to get home. Although sometimes "I can give you a lift home" is just a figure of speech, you know, take a hint, don't be a jerk. The schedule was (roughly) as follows: | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Total estimated number of drinks: 8+ over 6 hours.
But that was our plan... How did things flesh out? Well, for one, it can be said that we put the "+" in "8+ drinks"... |
| Stellas | |
|
I Metroed down, I don’t know how many people did same, but you get off King Street and you immediately see a big sign for Stellas bar and I knew that we were savants of planning, actually, I tend to attribute everything I do to raw talent because there can’t possibly be any effort behind it but Matt, compulsive strategist, probably considered this angle, my point is that we had a great meeting place and I felt booned from minute one. Matt and Adam had been at Stellas for about a beer, and I saddled alongside. Fifteen minutes later and we were a bona fide party, Anthony and Tracey and Lindsay and Mattski arrived, we were suddenly plural. I spent about 45 minutes in Stellas, in laboratory controlled (sober) circumstances, so this will be my most accurate review… not a bad place considering. |
|
| More of a restaurant but isn’t that a slippery slope, Stellas has a decent bar and one doesn’t pay through the nose; Anthony and I attempted to dissect the pricing scheme on the way to the next stop, and we decided that we were paying between $3 and $4 for a beer, not worth writing home about in the positive or the negative. Which is great considering the place looks classy to beat the band, nice oakey take your parents and display your lack of loutishness kind of establishment. The airplane decor both demands an explanation and can survive without it, they’ve got these models of WWII planes suspended from the ceiling, big five foot models with working propellers, fun! There’s about nine beers on tap, including the Aviator Ale, which we decided was perfect for the modern pilot on the go… not a bad beer, light and smooth but with the bitterness of a heavier breed, and a good aftertaste. I had to get some dinner substitute in me, and ordered a plate of popcorn shrimp which could have been bigger. Mark and wife and friend were with us before too long, and some more people met us as we stepped into the street but by 8:15 we were moving, southbound down King Street in a commanding mob that in retrospect was only at half strength. Later in the evening I would be picking my ass off the ice or simply fascinated by the prospect of mixing my imbibement with locomotion, but here I stepped back for a bit and viewed our crowd, this was a good idea. Stellas… it served us well, you can’t beat the location if you’re metro bound, and the pricing wasn’t bad for the bougie surroundings. But I never felt like I was getting good service. Maybe there’s no dedicated bartender, I don’t know, but we simply weren’t a priority to the staff. I was sitting around for an unacceptable amount of time when I arrived before anyone took my order. Probably the only thumbs down I’ll give tonight, due to me being such a pleasant and loving drunk. | |
| Rock-it Grill | |
|
It was a long walk to RockIt, I assured people that this would be the most lengthy haul of the night. I’m not sure that was true in actual crow flying distance, but this was the walk I was most conscious of. We piled into RockIt to find our better half, Courtney and Adam and their associateds, already established. Courtney was good enough to dovetail her birthday celebration into our night out, so she got ballooned and crooned and crowned. At RockIt we probably reached our population zenith, Lorne showed up, Eddie and friends, girls from unidentifiable source which probably means Matt’s office. RockIt… great place in atmosphere and pricing structure, it looked to typical on our scouting venture but now looking back I’ve got nothing but warmth. They have some RockIt ale or something on tap, I don’t think anybody tried it though; personally I see a Red Hook tap and I’m spoken for, iron codes of loyalty and what not. |
|
|
|
We had a chance to sample some food in the
form of nachos; the guacamole tasted like green sour cream (not my
witticism, Anthony’s, which is good, he has an SVGA palette while I get by
on a dollar store water color set) but the beef seemed plentiful. We had
planned to play some pool here but the tables (only two) were booked solid,
that’s cool, we were happy to lean on a railing that swayed menacingly under
our weight and filter among ourselves and drink. I established a pattern
that would serve me well here; upon entrance I left others to the normal
mingling and beelined for the bar. Service here was excellent; the
bartender accepted my order and then proceeded to do about a million other
things, filling pitchers and mixing drinks and whatnot, I realized I had
piled more straw onto an overburdened camel and felt twinges of guilt, but
on conclusion she had my drink, safe as houses.
This bar has a mirror across nearly the whole of one wall, I’m not sure how I feel about that. Also, a full karaoke setup sat in the corner unused, the only one we saw that night (good! You couldn’t randomly sample six bars here in suburbia and find just one lyrics prompter). At 9:00, this was another 45 minute long draw, the lights went out and switched to a set of colored tracklights, neat. Lot of good stuff going on here, I think a return engagement would feature RockIt. Did I mention how cheap the beer was here? A thumbs up comes from my threadbare pocket. |
| Walking up these steps, 'cause Triple L is mostly a second story affair, I spoke to whomever was near about how much I was looking forward to this, how beautiful and right this place was. Platonic Bar. Now granted I'd never been here during normal operating hours, but we saw Laughing Lizard in our scouting expedition and, well, I have a tendency to obsess... But no, it was cool here, very atmospheric. The pool hall portion, containing two tables and these torn cushion seats that I dig was booked and cliquish, but we could fill the front bar or sprawl in the hallway. LLL has this wonderful set of furnishings out of place for a real establishment: hallway sink, unisex single bathroom, narrow hallway with brick and window into stainless steel kitchen and barrels to lean against, I leaned against something... well, our love of dives is well documented, it might be the defining theme of these pages. But, and this pains me now as it pained me then, Laughing Lizard isn't a dive, it's too pricey. Across the street at frat-boy looking RockIt I was paying less than $3 for a beer, here its $4 and as great as it looks, the best aesthetic is overarching and penetrating truth, a reality that permeates a bar, it acts like it loves me but I'm being stabbed in the back (or back pocket, whatever). |
|
|
|
But I accept faults, they only stand out
because I so desire a perfection I thought I had glanced. Laughing
Lizard Lounge is still aces, we still dug each other and we were giving them
30 something bartabs and the establishment reciprocated; Matt comes to me
and sez "Pass the word, we're going downstairs". The Lounge has a
dancing section, a room with bar and open and dark with a looming corner
Deejay Perch... and normally it would be closed until 11 or so, door barred.
and locked, but for us? Aaayy! We worked our way down and
lounged and the girls all danced and the men all knew they'd done enough of
that in years past. They were playing 80s music, the standard tour
through the "Living in Oblivion" CD set, and we'd play with a Smoke Gun
which Courtney brought for some reason and say things like, "Ah, I crap
bigger than Soft Cell". We were concentrated here, all to ourselves
with room to stretch, there was a certain elation. Matt comes to me as
10:15 approaches and sez "Forget the next place, we want to stay here for a
while." I can't fault his reading of the crowd; I rarely enjoy myself
in such close proximity to dancing. So that's Laughing Lizard Lounge,
a bar that between busy front area, isolated poolhall, and dance hole
squeezes three distinct experiences out of one little building. I
wouldn't mind putting in three or four hours here one of these days. A special thanks goes out to Drew our bartender and Mick our DJ for setting us up. Also, a second thanks goes to Mick for playing Gompie's "Who the Fuck is Alice?" I haven't heard that song outside of the Caribbean. |
| Siam 815 | |
| Because we stayed late at Laughing Lizard, we never made it here. It looked like a cool place, but this is probably for the best as it is kind of small. | |
| Yeah, too bad, I was ready to fall hard for another bar, and Siam 815's got a great look to it... We will be back,. Old Town! | |
| Portners | |
|
Reviews get more sparse from here on it as
the grey matter that stored this info has been abused are rebused.
Portner's was a quick stop - I don't even think I drank there. They
are owed a debt of gratitude from me from way long ago for services rendered
during a great Old Town Scavenger Hunt. Lots of drinkery, good times.
Portners is a good old fashioned wood paneled dark bar, which is a plus in my book. They had the (8) dollar plate of mini-cheeseburgers and perfect timing for those plates to boot. Most of what I remember here is fellow krawlers asking me about our schedule while I was using the urinal. Not too savvy, but that is what I remember. |
|
|
|
|
| Pat Troy Ireland's Own | |
|
Ireland's Own has had a long standing
relationship with me as one of my two favorite Irish Pubs - much better then
Murphy's up the street. Pat Troy's is bigger, has better whiskey and
better bouncers. Plus, the bartenders have authentic Irish accents.
And - although we didn't partake on this trip - they have better reubens
too.
Sadly, my krewe was too drunk by this point to take proper pictures. I think some escaped here too. Lots of drama happened, all good I assure you. A special thanks goes to Brian, King of the Bouncers. How someone listened to me rant that long without kicking my ass is beyond me. |
|
| Bayou Room | |
| Walking in here was like walking into a beer commercial. The place was packed, the lights were right and everyone was dancing around in a half-mosh party party move. Good good memories and not a photograph to speak of. Too much beer and too much fun, the only shots that got off in here were Eddie's, and he erased them by accident. Too bad, oh well. | |
| Chadwicks | |
| Chadwicks. . . We missed last call so there was no Chadwicks. | |
A special thanks goes out to our designated drivers. Keep on rollin' boys!
There were a lot of great bars that didn't make the list. Bugsys, Basin Street Lounge, Bullfeathers, 5 Guys, Scotland Yard, Murphys, all the places labeled as backup sites and more. Some got cut because we knew they would be too crowded. Others just wouldn't be open during the right times. With others we had to weigh many important factors. Realistically we could not fit them all it and it breaks our hearts. Ideally we would get a group that starts drinking at noon, but that won't happen. Lousy psoriasis fatality rates... Maybe we can include them in a future crawl at some point.