Location: 2450 18th St. NW

Readers’ pick: Shenanigan’s Irish Pub

If you’re looking for the best bar to get into some cheap shenanigans, there’s no better place than, well, Shenanigan’s. 

Every Friday and Saturday, the Adams Morgan-based Irish pub offers a $15 open bar from 8 to 10 p.m. Brimming with D.C. students desperate for cheap booze and a DJ blasting an odd mixture of modern pop and the occasional Irish folk song, the lively dive-bar vibe of Shenanigan’s is hard to beat.

With bouncers who have an eagle eye for deciphering the real IDs from the counterfeits, the pub is a go-to for the 21+ college crowd looking for an energetic environment to get tipsy before heading to the many bars — like Pitchers, Madam’s Organ and Death Punch — just steps away.

When my two best friends from out of town visited the District last month, the bar felt like the place to take them for a glimpse into the life of a D.C. student. We showed up late because one of my friends forgot he needed to bring his ID to get into bars, arriving at the shamrock-green doors of the pub at 9:30 p.m. 

With only 30 minutes to get our $15 worth of drinks, we began our trek through the barricade of people standing between us, images of whiskey mixed drinks dancing in our heads like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Navigating the crowd took about a third of our remaining 30 minutes, only making us more desperate for our first sip of the night, before we finally reached the bar and ordered our first round.

We downed our drinks in three gulps and immediately ordered another round. We weren’t giving up our bartop spot — a rarity in the super-packed bar — until we got our money’s worth. After two more rounds, our 30 minutes disappeared, and our cups were empty, having gotten our money’s worth. 

Unwilling to spend more money on drinks, we headed upstairs to Shenanigan’s second floor, which has more open space, louder music, a DJ and a more open floor to create a scene set for dancing.

Just as we reached the second floor, “Rattlin’ Bog” by the Irish Descendants began playing, and we began belting out the folk song and swaying our arms as if we each held goblets of Guinness. I sang my heart out, knowing I’d be unable to get the same level of blurry caroling for the same price anywhere else.

After the song ended, we left for another bar in Adams Morgan. But I don’t think any of the other bars quite matched the excitement of “the bog down in the valley-o.”