Fado Irish Pub
Where: 808 Seventh Street, NW
Carded: At the door
Cover: Nada, but the beer prices make up for it
There are certain things you expect from an Irish bar. Frankly, Fado fails to deliver. 1) A fine imported beer collection, including Guinness, Bodagers and Caffrey’s. Check on the Guinness and Bodagers at five bucks a sodding pop for crying out loud. No check on the Caffery’s. Apparently you can’t get it in the States anymore. I doubt that’s true. 2) I expect Gaelic music, something of the variety that inspires an immediate jig. What did I hear? Two Princes. Not so jiggy. Plus, the music is louder outside the bar than inside. 3) I expect regulars with a brogue. Who did I sit next to? Some sloppy moron straight from Capitol Hill trying to make it with this over-the-hill slut with bad hair.
With no beer specials and five-dollar pints, our tab was climbing faster than GW’s tuition. We had to resort to, I’m almost ashamed to say it, nursing our beers. I was also unimpressed with our waiter’s knowledge of hops. When my friend asked for a good cream ale he just brought another Bodagers.
The night was not lost yet though. It was an Irish bar and I expect to be able to do an Irish car bomb. For those of you unfamiliar with the drink, it’s a pint of Guinness with a shot of Baileys and whiskey dropped in it. You chug the whole thing. Tastes just like a milk shake. But when we asked for them, our waiter said, and I quote, “We don’t serve those any more.” When I asked why, he replied, “people got too rowdy.” Too rowdy? TOO ROWDY? IT’S A FREAKING IRISH BAR FOR GOD’S SAKE. IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE ROWDY.
Belle Rating: 1 Bell