Two opinions writers who – for various reasons – never set foot in McFadden’s reflect on the closing of the longtime campus haunt.
Missing out on a quintessential GW experience
Sarah Blugis, a junior majoring in political communication, is The Hatchet’s contributing opinions editor.
None of my friends would likely peg me as the type of person interested in spending a Tuesday night in D.C.’s “douchiest bar.” In fact, before coming to GW, I never thought I would want to participate in anything even close to what went on at McFadden’s, the former quintessential college bar.
But the truth is, I’ve heard many people describe Tuesdays at McFadden’s as a rite of passage, and anything considered a rite of passage at GW is something I want to try.
I just turned 21 in December, but now the bar has been closed. Granted, I can still check off a lot of things on the standard to-do list before I graduate next year – go to the Lincoln Memorial at sunrise, try out Ben’s Chili Bowl, run into a famous politician – but I can never go to McFadden’s.
A lot of people might ask, “What’s the big deal?” And it’s a valid question. I don’t actually think I would have had all that much fun at McFadden’s which, admittedly, does seem like it was pretty douchey. It underwent more than 50 investigations for alcohol violations and assaults, and held offensively named events like “Extreme Midget Wrestling.”
But think of McFadden’s in terms of GW’s culture and traditions, or lack thereof. Sure, there are things that most people experience or try during their time here. What we lack, though, is the classic “college atmosphere.” Sometimes, it feels like we’re all just a bunch of young people who happen to live on the same few blocks in D.C., rather than a community of students attending the same university.
In reality, many of the things on our GW bucket list aren’t unique to our school – they’re unique to D.C. There aren’t many experiences that tie us to our campus. In fact, some of the most fun and interesting things we do and see as students are spread out across the city. And with so many choices for internships, student organizations and even restaurants, it’s nearly impossible for GW-specific staples to be established.
McFadden’s somehow cut through the endless options we have to choose from to become one of the only campus hotspots that every student heard stories about.
Of course, McFadden’s was far from the solution to our lack of community. But it was something that was ours. On Tuesday nights, it was filled with GW students, and every type of student went there: members of Greek life, political hopefuls, athletes, international students, you name it.
I wanted to be able to say I was there once – that I participated in something that was one of the only things that’s almost exclusively a GW experience.
Though problematic, McFadden’s was a stable part of our disjointed community. In a city that isn’t a classic college town, it was the college bar – the GW bar. It will be replaced, but it won’t be the same. And many of us will never get to experience it. So if you did, be sure to check it off your list.
Good riddance, McFadden’s
David Meni, a senior majoring in political science, is a Hatchet opinions writer.
Oh McFadden’s, I hardly knew ye.
Actually, to be accurate, I never knew ye. Despite being a senior at GW, I never set foot in McFadden’s ‒ and I’m ever proud of that fact.
As my 21st birthday approached last October, I was excited to finally be given the agency to choose never to go to that fetid Pennsylvania Avenue “saloon.” Now with it shutting its doors for good, that choice is permanently made for me.
Perhaps I shouldn’t pass judgement on a place I never visited, but I’ll admit it’s terribly hard not to. Even just walking by the place at night, I’ve almost had people throw up on my shoes more than once. And to be frank, I’d really rather stay away from an establishment whose primary descriptor on Yelp is “meat market.”
I came to D.C. to get away from New Jersey, so why would I have eagerly shown up to what seems to be Pauly D’s home away from home? If I ever walk into a bar and see a crowd of people collectively fist pumping in the direction of Seaside Heights to a Flo Rida song like some kind of religious observance, I’m turning around and walking out.
As a GW student finding myself in the middle of a bustling metropolis with countless incredible bars, I have a hard time justifying waiting in a line to pay a cover just so I can pay more money for drinks, elbow my way through a sea of grinding and sloppy face sucking, and get a watered-down rail drink from a bartender who barely acknowledges my existence.
I could maybe forgive the fact that it was named the “douchiest bar” in D.C. But what’s inexcusable is that McFadden’s has been investigated over 50 times since its opening, that it’s been the site of sexual assault (no doubt countless more than have been reported), runaway taxis and alleged public fornication (I mean, more power to you if that’s consensual, but also ‒ gross).
I’m all for having a college bar where GW students can feel a sense of community, but Foggy Bottom deserves better than McFadden’s – that charybdis of dollar-beer-fueled vomit.
My heart goes out to all those mourning McFadden’s long-overdue passing. It’s hard losing your home bar, but I recommend you take the time to explore all the imbibing options your wonderful city has to offer.
As for me, you’ll find me literally anywhere else.
