College Park is an odd place filled with fascinating people. Conversations don’t revolve around normal things such as petty gossip, daily activities and what you ate. Furious debates aren’t about the budget crisis, but rather about your preferred flavor of Burnett’s Vodka. Every college town, similar in that they are filled with drinking establishments, cheap eateries and the occasional bookstore, all have distinct quirks. Consequently, nightlife is different at each university, with some being run by fraternities, some by house parties and others centered on the bar scene.
Our school — no surprise — has seen the number of house parties decrease from sporadic to nearly nonexistent due to the crackdown occurring on and around College Avenue. Even though they might proclaim to, this university’s fraternities haven’t run the social scene in years due to the fact that most are not able to have parties in their chapter houses. And while fraternities try to pack hundreds of people into satellite houses, it doesn’t come close to satisfying the student demand on a Friday night. Students have a deep bond with our bar scene, largely due to our dual obligations as both students and alcoholics.
While we have mourned the loss of our friends, Turtle, Mark and Fe, the buzz around the university has been about The Barking Dog, a new bar that will occupy the space where Thirsty Turtle once reigned supreme. But don’t get your hopes up about this new establishment just yet. Maybe it’s the cynic in me, but the bar’s owner, John McManus, is off to a less-than-stellar start with those who will make up the majority of his patrons: students.
He talks as if The Dog and Turtle are going to be complete opposites, which is a categorical lie. Both had or will have food, security guards and surveillance cameras. While our brains are now low on memory cells thanks to too many dollar-pitcher nights, Turtle didn’t start off as the place where you saw girls wearing Sweet 16 birthday crowns, but rather a place filled with a mix of those below and above the legal drinking age.
An important question remains: Who is McManus going to attract to his bar?
A quick education for the Bethesda bar owner: In College Park, townies don’t mingle with students, athletes go to R.J. Bentley’s, and Cornerstone Grill and Loft hauls in seniors and Greek life. Looney’s, when it opens in August at the Varsity, will snag the students living in there, the University Club and the University View who prefer to avoid the Blue line bus whenever possible.
McManus is left with primarily freshmen and sophomores who have nothing better to do besides drink in their tiny dorm rooms. If a student is of legal age, why would they go spend $9 on a pitcher of beer at McManus’ locale instead of buying four rail drinks at Bentley’s or Cornerstone for the same price? Answer: They won’t. McManus will be forced to choose between breaking his word or his bank account.
I applaud McManus for saying he will have live music, and from a political standpoint, he has to be given some high marks. After all, he received near unanimous approval from both the College Park City Council and the Prince George’s County Board of License Commissioners just months after the infamous stabbing and police sting doomed the fate of Turtle.
We as alcoholics don’t appreciate his paternalistic attitude that he can — and will — single-handedly change the culture in College Park. His notorious quote, in which he called Turtle “a vomit factory,” is surely not going to endear him to the throngs of students that proudly wear their Turtle Survivor jerseys at the gym every day. Mr. McManus, you may have good intentions, but naive people haven’t been known to find success in this crazy place called College Park.
Matt Arnstine is a sophomore journalism major. He can be reached at arnstine at umdbk dot com.
