Thirsty Turtle has come to symbolize the problem of underage drinking at this university, and local officials are hoping its downfall will serve as a warning to all other city establishments, nipping this problem in the bud once and for all. But such hopes run dry and ignore the larger issues at hand.
Turtle has taken quite a beating in the past few months. Coming into the fall semester, Turtle had already accumulated two alcohol citations in its short three-year existence: for serving underage patrons and refilling top-shelf liquor bottles with cheap booze.
Then, in September, University Police Chief David Mitchell decided to initiate a sting-like operation to test the integrity of the infamous College Park establishment. He sent in two undercover police auxiliary officers, who were allowed to enter and were served beer despite presenting real state IDs that clearly showed they were under 21. A few short weeks after that, media attention descended on Turtle after a brawl involving several underage students began in the bar and led to a knife fight less than a block away.
Calls for repercussions for the bar’s irresponsibility were almost immediate, with Mitchell expressing his desire to padlock Turtle’s front doors the very next day. Turtle’s owners did their best at damage control — cracking down on underage admissions and employing ID scanners at the door in an attempt to save their reputation.
But it was to no avail.
Last week, the Prince George’s County Board of License Commissioners gave the bar its kiss of death when it voted unanimously to revoke Turtle’s liquor license — a decision that shocked many students and even surprised John McGorty, a county liquor license inspector. Although the hearing was originally called to address the September incident involving the police auxiliary officers, October’s stabbing undoubtedly fueled the decision.
Although reaction to the liquor board’s decision has been split, with some students mourning what will likely be the bar’s demise and others lauding the decision as an act of justice, both sides seem to miss the broader point.
While other bar owners, such as Mark Srour of Cornerstone Grill and Loft, may lambaste Turtle’s recklessness or crow the fall of a major competitor, it would be naive to think that other city bars are any less guilty than Turtle. Both Cornerstone and R.J. Bentley’s passed police’s test with “flying colors” and have not been issued liquor citations in more than a decade, but it is no secret that each and every bar that has ever made a dime in this city has done so with the help of underage patrons. And while bar owners may deny such claims as hyperbole, students know it to be true.
Yet despite this equal claim to guilt, Turtle has become the scapegoat for university and local officials. To single out Turtle alone for somehow being the kingpin of underage drinking in the city completely ignores much larger issues.
After all, while Turtle may have garnered a reputation as the “high-school bar,” it is hardly the only local bar with lax entry practices. Furthermore, underage drinking does not solely occur in the confines of a building with a liquor license. This weekend’s sparse turnout at Turtle, Cornerstone and Bentley’s may indicate that students chose to avoid the risk of lurking liquor inspectors and instead drank behind closed doors, where regulators and security are not on the payroll and there are no last calls.
Ultimately, Turtle didn’t stand much of a chance in this fight. Circumstances and media attention demanded a hard-line response from officials. As a result, Turtle may serve its last drink as soon as Nov. 23. But even if Turtle’s lights forever darken at the end of the month, another local bar will likely fill the void and become the new underage watering hole, and the same problems will persist: Students will drink often in excess, bars will serve them, and occasionally, some people will pay the price when dramatic events force the spotlight on this pillar of college life.
As the liquor board drafts its final decision and Nov. 23 rapidly approaches, university and local officials should take a minute to look at the absurdity of this situation and what its true ramifications could be. Turtle no doubt deserves punishment for its actions, but it should not become a whipping boy for a much more prevalent problem, having been given little chance to correct its wrong. Grandstanding does not solve problems — it simply sweeps them under the rug.
