Clear and Present RagerA Story by D. HoganNot being
from Washington D.C., I just always thought of the Capitol as a city full of
old power-hungry men making terribly misinformed decisions for the rest of the
general public. Oh, and a lot of cool museums too. But that was before my
college roommate, Charlie, landed a summer internship for one of those
power-hungry old men. I made fun
of him for how bored he’d be in D.C., but only a week after moving, he was
calling me almost every day telling me about all his misadventures. Apparently,
with all those students, interns, young professionals, and super-hot assistants
trying to work their way up, the whole city is just run by a bunch of young
people constantly looking to blow off steam. After
winning a couple hundred bucks in Vegas (that’s a whole ‘nother story), I had
some spare change to blow on a plane ticket, and the next thing I knew, I was
landing into Dulles International, with views of the whitewashed neoclassical
buildings whizzing by. Charlie
picked me up after his 12-hour workday that capped off a 70-hour week. I
figured he’d want to relax, and knowing his cosmopolitan attitude, I assumed
that would include something pedantic like reading up at the Library of
Congress. But when I asked what he wanted to do, he only had three words for
me: the simplest, most awesome three words anyone can ever say (no, he didn’t
tell me he loved me. Not this early in the night at least). “Let’s get weird”,
he exhaled, and I suddenly remembered exactly why I booked the flight in the
first place. I
barely had time to drop off my things before we began our Friday night of
hopping around bars in D.C. Charlie first led us to
an inconspicuous looking sports bar called Rhino for the extended Friday happy
hours. I later learned that Georgetown University was just around the corner,
which explained why halfway through our second pitcher, I noticed the influx of
throngs of thirsty co-eds, and before long the place had gone from mellow to an
unruly atmosphere of debauchery. We decided to escape the prepped-out, former lacross stick carrying, East Coast elites and head to Eighteenth Street Lounge, which Charlie failed to mention was one of the coolest places ever. The run down exterior transformed into a three story, 19th century Victorian mansion once stepping inside, with chandeliers, velvet-lined chaise lounges, dark tapestry, and tons of young people getting absolutely trashed to the in-house DJs. It was literally like if Theodore Roosevelt had decided to throw a blowout kegger house-party for his reelection.
Daniel
Hogan is a writer at Party Earth -
a global media and entertainment company that publishes reviews and listings of
the best social experiences around the world including: bars in Paris, pubs in
London, beaches in Ibiza, plazas in Rome, parks in New York, festivals and
concerts everywhere, and more. © 2012 D. Hogan |
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Added on December 14, 2012 Last Updated on December 14, 2012 Tags: washington dc, nightlife, bars AuthorD. HoganLos Angeles, CAAboutDaniel Hogan is a writer at Party Earth - a global media and entertainment company that publishes reviews and listings of the best social experiences around the world including: bars in Paris, pubs in.. more..Writing
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