Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

AN INDEPENDENT STUDENT NEWSPAPER SERVING THE GW COMMUNITY SINCE 1904

The GW Hatchet

Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

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Bar Belle: Lulu’s

Lulu’s Club Mardi Gras
1217 22nd St.

Maybe it was the return of the warm weather, or perhaps more likely the three vodka tonics. But something put me in the mood to party Bourbon Street style. Since flying to New Orleans for the weekend was not feasible, I settled for Lulu’s. Oh, and did I mention that Saturday night was Chippendale Dancer night? (Not that scores of scantily clad men had anything to do with my decision.)
Not everyone was excited as I about going to Lulu’s. The guys disappeared as their homophobia set in, and the girls weren’t exactly thrilled. But I won them over by reminding them that there would be people we knew there and no cab fare. Expecting lines around the block of horny GW girls and glimpses of chiseled abs through the windows, we were instead greeted by a disappointingly average looking group of tux clad guys holding arm bands. The only thing that could be seen through the front patio was about 10 middle-aged women around the front bar. There were none of our friends, or even acquaintances we didn’t like to hang out with. Even more pathetic was that by 1 a.m., there were no more Chippendales.
So, to be honest, I didn’t actually go to Lulu’s Saturday night, and admittedly I am not giving a completely fair evaluation either. I have had some great blacked out nights there in the past. But if there is no student promotion, the place, to put it bluntly, pretty much sucks. My freshman year, Lulu’s was one of the GW hot spots. But its reputation for student arrests and tough carding began a downward spiral for the bar, which turned into a hangout for middle-aged, trashy people.
But things are looking a little better. Rumored to be under new management, the bar seems pretty crowded on Thursday’s “3-2-1 College Night.” The scene is mostly decked out GW style – teeming with impatient students who sometimes wait up to 20 minutes for a drink that, in my experience, isn’t the most satisfying. Beer is served in small, scarcely-filled cups, and bottles cost up to $5.25. It is surprising that a venue in such a prime location with plenty of space – two floors and six bars – is unable to draw a consistent crowd in a city full of spoiled undergrads and yuppies. If Chippendales can’t fill the place, I’m not sure what can.

Bar Belle Rating: 1/5

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