With the onset of senioritis, spring, March madness and impending adulthood, it is safe to say that my inhibitions are running ramped and I am finding it particularly hard to recall the events of my past excursion. Fact: I made it all the way out to Wonderland Ballroom in Columbia Heights. Fact: I tried walking home at some point. Fact: the bar was kick-ass. Fact: I woke up the next morning with a horrid headache. Now let’s try to figure out the blank spaces together.
After toasting a friend’s birthday with rounds of whiskey, a group of four of us decided to try a bar called Wonderland Ballroom since we were already at a house on U Street and the rest of the crowd was drunk, horny and heading to a gay bar. Much love to the gay bars, but I have a hard enough time finding guys at a regular bar that I’m pretty sure I would be out of luck at a gay bar. So after sneaking a couple shots with my friend, we made our way down some shady corners to 1101 Kenyon St. where an inconspicuous bar sat amid an otherwise residential area. Lit up by Christmas lights and pumping indie tunes, Wonderland Ballroom was easy to find. Even through blurred vision I could tell that by the look of this place we were in for quite the night.
The bar, unlike the children on “I Know My Kid’s a Star,” had the “it factor.” From what I can remember the crowd was a hodge-podge of socialites, young hipsters in skinny jeans sipping on exotic beers, prepsters in collared shirts toasting a song, moms and dads relaxing after a hard day’s work, and everyone in between sharing a bond over the 24 beers on tap and eclectic music both on the jukebox and live upstairs. It was pretty awesome to watch all these people coming together in one place.
The bar itself has two floors – the first with a large bar at the entrance, seating to the side and an open space for dancing in the back. All I got to see of the upstairs was a graffitied wall next to the bathroom, but there is another bar, and a stage where bands play and DJ’s spin during the week. What was even stranger was running into other friends from GW at such an unlikely place. I guess I wasn’t the only one to find that a bar trying to be plain and simply a friendly and unpretentious place was truly refreshing. No televisions, no flashing lights – just cheap drinks, tons of space and all-around awesomeness.
Since I don’t remember a lot of the night, I did a little research on Wonderland Ballroom and found that people have either a love or hate relationship with this place. Unfortunately, locals are becoming upset that college students like us are finding out about their little spot and turning it into a magnet for the hipster scene which tends to feast on an “uncool” bar, thus making it cool until it is known to be cool, thus making it uncool. (Phew! I know, confusing.)
The Wonderland veterans don’t want their bar to be overtaken by our kind, but really, can we help it if we fall in love with a species that has become extinct in Washington? So I urge you, readers, if you travel to Wonderland; do not feed into the locals’ fears. Don’t make this bar disposable, because it is quite the gem in a jaded area. But most of all, don’t try to walk back to campus – you’ll want to save money for a cab.
Bar Belle Rating: Four out of Four Belles.
