I remember when this used to be the cocaine hub of DC. Well, that was when you were five blocks over and one storey underground. Couldn’t be more different now. But I come here, and I see that old sign there hanging on the wall, and, if I get tipsy enough, and squint my eyes, […]
I tried to play pool in Bethesda, MD on Sunday. I should have known better.
Like most normal, sane people, I had put high school behind me. The worst years of our lives, really, no matter how much you try to sugarcoat it. When the 20th reunion party planners contacted me, I was a little bit alarmed that (a) 20 years had passed and (b) those fucking assholes found me. […]
I set out to review The Nest, a slightly off the beaten path yuppie hangout in Bethesda, MD, but then I found myself with the same problem as when I tried to review Fire Station One in Silver Spring. The Nest, while obviously a great date spot if you’re into that noisy herd of transplants […]
I have a dream. I’m going to move to New Orleans and open up a DC-themed bar. I’m going to call it “In Session” and set it up somewhere posh where we can pick up tourists and commuters. For all the expats, it’ll be a true home away from home. The first thing I’ll do […]
“Okay,” I told James as he flooded the engine of his Triumph Spitfire which, despite years of neglect, was in remarkably reliable condition. Somewhat. He beat his head on the steering wheel and screamed. I continued. “We do have a purpose today.” “What purpose?” he muttered, head against the wheel, hands on the cracked dashboard. […]
It’s time to answer the question that, I’m sure, is foremost in everyone’s mind: Where can I get a beer in Union Station at 8:30am? And I don’t mean buying one at the liquor store, or getting one down at the weird pizza joint in the gladiator pit food court and drinking in a corner […]
I have a rare free weekend coming up and, as Monday dawns harsh and merciless, I find that I’m irrationally excited about the idea that, come Friday, I’ll be able to come home, take off my pants, go nowhere, do nothing, and not utter a single word for 60 hours.
After nine years, I’m sad to report that the so-called “NoMa” section of Capitol Hill really sucks when it comes to drinking. I’m talking about the Mass Ave stretch…and beyond! NoMa being the wholly imaginary neighborhood “North of Mass Ave” which is Union Station and the dismal former-ghetto rolling down past the bus station to […]
For this final part in my randomly selected tour of Irish bars in DC, I’ll continue along the Red Line to Gallery Place, and finally Cleveland Park.