Hooray Beer! Madam’s Organ and Delta Highway FTW!!!

Hooray beer(!!!) was my basic thought when I started my weekend last Friday. I was going to Asylum in DC to celebrate their 18th anniversary with 18 cent pints of the worst beer Americans can produce (Natty Lite, Beast, etc). This seemed to be quite a fantastic (i.e. horrible) idea, as the 20-30 something crowd is normally somewhere between dirt broke and dirt cheap. So, I got home from work around 6:30ish and changed into my drinkin’ shirt and fedora and left in search of glory. After the nice British lady on my tomtom assisted me in navigating DC streets, I walked with a friend of mine into the Adams Morgan neighborhood.

On a side note, I recently researched the name “Adams Morgan” and found it was associated with two racially segregated schools in that area, one for black and one for whites. Now, it’s a thriving diverse community with a confusing network of hills and mix-matched roads to lead drunks to their doom. Joy!

Anywho, back to my foggy memory. We arrived at Asylum to find out something I was terribly afraid of. Other people had heard of this event. Upon entering the bar, we confirmed my fears. A helluva lot of people had heard of the event, and it was fire-hazard packed in there. Regardless, this was a logical outcome, so we pressed on. However, after pushing our way through the mosh pit of fellow “hooray beer” enthusiasts, we found the horror was far worse than previously imagined. It turns out that in all their wisdom, Asylum had decided that 2 whole angry bartenders were enough to keep the deluge happy. They were horribly mistaken. I was hoping to see the glowing word FAIL appear out of the intarweb and hover over the bar. Asylum is split into two floors, the bottom being horribly unsafe when packed and the top being marginally less unsafe when packed. And this place was PACKED.

Paul and I found a relatively open spot at the top floor’s bar and tried our damndest to get the bartender’s attention. This process proved quite unfruitful, as they seemed to have hired someone recently out of the DMV as their bartender. She had a very I’m-going-to-eat-your-soul appearance going on. After thinking about it for a few moments, I came upon the most logical conclusion: When you go to a bar, how well do you tip? Most people, I’m guessing, decide how much to tip based on the performance of the bartender and the complexity of the request. If all they’re doing is opening a bottle or pouring your beer in a glass, you’re probably not going to tip as highly as… say… when I order a White Russian and it’s friggin delicious.

Another side note, I like to test out bars by ordering a White Russian. It’s my favorite adult-beverage. It’s delicious. It tastes like happiness. Also, it seems to be rather difficult to get right. A perfect White Russian is a glorious mixture of vodka, kahlua, and cream/half-n-half/whole milk (depending on the bartender). I personally prefer a smidge more of the kahlua flavor in mine. Some get it right, and it’s orgasmic. Others, unfortunately, get it horribly wrong and it tastes like cream filtered death.

Anywho, beer slingers get tips based their punctuality and the cost of the beer. For science’s sake, let’s say the pint only costs you $0.18. Then, let’s say that the bartender has roughly 100-250 to attend to with the help of only 1 assistant (guy who pre-fills pitchers of beer). She’s about as happy as the kid who just found out the Easter bunny at the mall is actually a pedophile in disguise. How much are you going to tip her? In conclusion, it took about 30 minutes to get her attention. Another 10 minutes to get the actual beer. And about 10 seconds to finish them (we were thirsty, waiting is hard). So, when two other friends arrived, we got one more round and dipped the hell out.

Two doors down from Asylum is Madam’s Organ. The name alone makes it twice as badass. Also, no line to get in and no excruciating wait to get our swerve on. Another noted feature, the top floor is a dance area with another bar and there is a pretty badass balcony up there to get your smoke on. As I’d never been there before, I did not know that Madam’s Organ is a blues/soul food bar and has live music damn near every night. Unbeknownst to us, we were in for quite a treat. Delta Highway was on stage that night, and their show was absolutely excellent. The band – made up of Brandon Santini (vocals/harmonica), Justin Sulek (guitar), Paul Chase (bass), and Kevin Eddy (drums) – put on one of the best shows I have ever seen. They breathe some very rock-fueled energy back into the blues with almost never ending solos from Sulek and Santini. The most amazing was that Santini’s solos were in between verses, dood has some pipes! I picked up their CD, which is excellent, but seeing them live is a rare treat. According to their website, they’ve toured as far as Egypt, so you may be able to catch them in your area soon. I highly recommend it, as it made the whole night worth it!

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