The Early Brunch Catches the Worm: A leisurely weekend morning spent guzzling mimosas and bloody Marys typically wouldn't get started until nearly noon; after all, the Venn diagram intersection of "people up early on a Sunday" and "people who want to drink on Sunday mornings" isn't usually very large. But the city's coffers need a boost, and so booze service at brunch could soon start at 8 a.m., instead of 10 a.m., which would bring in more alcohol tax revenue. We've got a civic duty here, folks. Drink up. +2

Big Republican Brother is Watching: Bad enough Congress decided to dictate what the District could do with its own local revenues—now lawmakers have decided to get snippy about it. A large group of Republicans sent Mayor Vince Gray a letter recently, demanding answers about how much money the city spent on abortions last year. Particularly galling to the GOP: District officials are likelier to cooperate with The Washington Post than with Congress on requests for information! Finally, an area where we at Washington City Paper can find common ground with Michele Bachmann. -2

Blast-ed: First they came for Four Loko, and we did not speak up, because we did not drink Four Loko (mostly because we are not 19 years old). Now Maryland authorities are after Pabst Brewing Company's "Blast by Colt 45" fruit-flavored alcohol bombs, calling the 23.5-ounce drinks a "binge in a can." Again, we will not speak up, because, frankly, the stuff sounds kind of gross. At any rate, you can still buy it in D.C., even if Maryland Attorney General Doug Gansler has his way in the Old Line State. +1

A Streetcar Named Delay: Streetcars were initially supposed to be running along the District's roads by next spring. And if you believed that, you'll believe anything. The official launch has now been pushed back to next fall, instead. So far, funding for the H Street-Benning Road line is secure. But if you believe it'll stay that way, you might also have believed the line would open on the original schedule. -2

Yesterday's Needle rating: 66 Today's score: -1 Today's Needle rating: 65

Just before the Fourth of July, the organizers of SoberRide managed to scrape together the $31,000 they needed to keep the program running. MillerCoors kicked in $15,000 (which, presumably, it'll make back this weekend, one silver bullet at a time), and GEICO and anti-drunk driving group the Century Council each ponied up $5,000. The Restaurant Association of Washington chipped in $2,000.

Of course, there's no guarantee you won't have to wait several drunken hours for the free ride home. Still—happy birthday, America!

Pregame-Big group of Portugal fans here. About 25 of them decked out in national team gear with a big flag hanging across a couple of chairs. Some Brazil fans clearly divided into another part of the restaurant. A lot of them look like they could have some legitimate Brazilian roots. Not those bangwagon SOBs that are buying jerseys because they're trendy. The bar was empty when I arrived. It's now almost completely filled. Most people are sipping on mixed drinks. I thought it was never too early for beer? Portugese national anthem gets applause. The Brazilian anthem gets whistles, table-banging and cheers.

6th minute-Guy sitting by himself at the end of the bar has his headphones on, bobbing his head to the music. Looks like he just got done with a jog. Beer in one hand, small Brazil flag in the other. Please no one disturb him. He's in the zone. For breakfast, I ordered the No. 3: breakfast burrito with egg, peppers, jalopenos, shrooms, onions in a sundried tomato tortilla. It was awesome. Blows the empanadas [noshed during the Argentina game last week at El Patio in Rockville] out of the water. Costs about eight bucks. Comes with potatoes, too.

12th minute-Two guys in a booth nearby; one telling a tale of the time he went to the "Big House" in Ann Arbor; his friend in the Brazil soccer garb couldn't care less.

36th minute-Anytime something with a hint of excitement happens, a group of female Brazil fans, all in gold jerseys, start yelping. They sound a little bit like a group of ankle-biting dogs with their high pitched barks. I detest any dog that can fit into a handbag. But I must admire these gals' enthusiasm.

41st minute-I'm keeping my eye on the North Korea-Ivory Coast game. Ivory Coast is up 2-0, but I'm rooting for the commies, only because I don't want the players to spend the rest of their lives working in a coal mine. I count about 22 TVs here–half tuned in to North Korea, half on the Brazil game. A total of 10 behind the bar, all in a row; two placed around the dining room.

Halftime-The yappy ladies in gold get up for a group bathroom trip. I guess no matter where in the world you're from, girls always go to the bathroom in packs. My little brother, who's taggling along today, spots a Bud Light truck outside and suggests that we hijack it, put it in our backyard and then cover it with blankets, so our mom doesn't see it. I like his plan. It's fool proof.

54th minute-The breakfast burrito looks to be the favorite around here. A bunch of them arrives suddenly at the tables around me. One guy loudly demands more sour cream. His waitress delivers. Game is still nil-nil.

 77th minute-Lots of people standing at the bar now. The kitchen is swamped, according to my waitress, and the table behind me is getting impatient. They want their burritos before the game is over, dammit! Still nil-nil.

88th minute-Two failed scoring chances for Brazil. Half the restaurant is yelling in frustration, the other half cheering in relief. Fed up with waiting for his food, the guy at the table behind me cancels his order. Come to find out the beloved breakfast burrito is officially called the "baja wrap."

Final whistle-An anticlimactic scoreless draw. At least the baja wrap is satisfying.

Games resume at 10 a.m. tomorrow. Drinks at 8 a.m. Where to go? Consult our trusty guide: Where to Watch the World Cup.

Photo by Raimond Spekking/Creative Commons Attribution License

The Dutch have always been among the brightest soccer fans. Well, at least visually. Special correspondent Juliana Brint reports from Mackey's Public House at

1st minute-Got stuck at the bar next to some loud guys talking only in Dutch and ordering lots of summer ale. Some conflict: TVs were set to ESPN, the Japan-Denmark game. Guys at the bar were having none of it, got the guy to switch to ESPN2 for Netherlands versus Cameroon. New contender for favorite costume: cardboard crown with orange tulips.

7th minute-Family with four kids, all wearing orange and carrying Dutch flags just walked in. Also, the bar seems to be auctioning off a jersey.

10th minute-Wishing I understood Dutch. Only English I can hear at this point is "more Heineken."

19th minute-Woman standing five-foot-five complains about being the shortest person here. The Dutch do seem to be fairly tall people.

22nd minute-There's an odd divide at the bar: the front half seems to be mopey working stiffs, back half seems to be Amsterdam USA.

27th minute-Woman walks in with a blow-up orange clown and blingy fake gold necklace. Glad the female Dutch pimp contingent is represented.

36th minute-On the replay, it appears the ball went through the Cameroon goaltender's legs. Nutmeg! Big LOLs around the bar. Holland is up, 1-0.

40th minute-Stoic guy at the bar is wearing a shirt that's 50 percent orange, 50 percent red, white and blue (all colors in the Dutch flag, too), and 100 percent awesome

Halftime-Some sedated claps. "Going well, we just need a tie," says the orange-clad guy next to me. "We need to keep winning!" another guy replies. "Losing's for losers!" yet another chimes in. Bartender takes advantage of the downtime to scarf a meal. Lots of loud Dutch chatter around the bar. Some stragglers come in, pulling on orange t-shirts as they walk in. Watching highlights of Italy's loss is super depressing. I guess I'll have to be vicariously happy through the Dutch.

49th minute-The "leaving work early to catch the second half" crowd has arrived, sporting suits and orange ties.

54th minute-Too many common Dutch surnames is causing problems at the bar. Guy gives the name on his tab as Van...Something. The bartender comes back and asks, "You're with the group over there, right?" Nope. "Uh, no," the guy replies. "Fuuuuck," the bartender sighs as he heads back to sort out the tabs.

61st minute-"I always root against the Italians," the guy next to me says. They're making it hard for me to live vicariously through the Dutch team.

63rd minute-Guy tells me Mackey's is way less crowded than it was last Saturday. "It'll be crazy Monday," he predicts.

65th minute-Cameroon scores on a penalty shot. A few groans but no one seems too upset or worried. The Dutch are already through to the knockout round.

67th minute-Someone's Latina girlfriend started talking in Spanish to her friend, only to be chided by her boyfriend. "No Spanish, just Dutch," he says. "Dutch is so hard!" she replies. So much for cross-cultural understanding...

72nd minute-The little kids dressed in orange are getting antsy, skipping around the bar.

76th minute-The Latina girlfriend swoons, "Your guys' coach looks like he should be in a GQ photoshoot."

78th minute-Bartenders tells the orange-clad crowd, "As long as you guys don't play the U.S., we're good. If you do, that would be a problem." Dutch fan replies, "No, there wouldn't–we'd win!"

81st minute-The more tipsy the crowd becomes the more English they seem to be speaking. Thank you, Heineken!

83rd minute-An emotional rollercoaster. Excitement about the fast-break, groans on the bad first touch, then huge cheers at the beautiful goal: 2-1, Holland.

88th minute-The tulip crown is still on. Gotta admire the dedication of the Dutch supporters.

Final whistle-A quiet end to the match. Someone unfurls a Dutch flag, but no real outrageous celebrations. The orange outfits are enough.

Games resume at 10 a.m. Drinks at 8 a.m. Where to go? Consult our trusty guide: Where to Watch the World Cup.

Photo by FaceMePLS/Creative Commons Attribution License

"Jitterbugs," by William H. Johnson

The Issue: Local 16, a U Street bar and restaurant owned by Aman Ayoubi, allegedly violated its voluntary agreement with neighbors. A local resident, Allen Smith, complained to D.C. Councilmember Jim Graham about a "long-standing issue regarding noise," claiming that Local 16 "[operated] more as a night club than it [did] as a restaurant." But, one complaint rang loudest—that Local 16 operated an illegal dance floor on the second floor of its building. Graham enlisted the help of the Alcoholic Beverage Regulation Administration (ABRA) to look into the allegations.

Goin' Undercover: Days after ABRA investigators warned Local 16 about the noise violation in early January, investigator Donnell Butler went undercover to check out the alleged dance floor. According to the ABRA case report, Butler "observed people consuming what appeared to be alcoholic beverages, conversation, and dancing ... [he] did not observe any tables or chairs on the second floor, although he was unable to determine that this was a designated dance area." Two more ABRA investigators backed up Butler's report after visiting Local 16 the following weekend; they observed "no tables and chairs on the second floor ... the area was crowded with people dancing."

Just Dance: When another ABRA investigator visited Local 16 to ask questions about the dance floor, Ayoubi said that it was "difficult to stop the patrons from dancing if they wanted to." Ayoubi also argued that he had a good relationship with the community, claiming that Local 16 is not a nightclub.

What's Next? Kick off your Sunday shoes! Last week, the city's Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) Board voted unanimously to levy a $500 fine against Local 16 for noise violations. As for the dance-floor faux pas? ABC Board member Nick Valenti said "there was a lack of evidence to substantiate that charge."

Image courtesy of Smithsonian American Art Museum

The scene inside Public

Will early morning alcohol sales dry up across the District if the United States fails to advance to the World Cup knockout round? Only Algeria stands in the way of more ante meridiem revelry. Special correspondent Kim Chi Ha tries to report from Lucky Bar, where she is turned away shortly before Wednesday's 10 a.m. kickoff–"reached maximum capacity a while ago," she reports–and then heads across Connecticut Avenue to Public Bar, where she finds slightly more elbow room. Slightly. "There's more people [here] than I've ever seen on a Friday night."

4th minute-The wide screen covers an entire wall downtstairs. One dude says his dad, who operates an NGO, let everyone have the day off. Crowd is chanting "U-S-A! U-S-A!"

8th minute-Finally got a drink. Bartenders are slammed. So, I'm double-fisting Miller Lite and Malibu pineapple. Lots of others clutch Peronis.

12th minute-A guy is gushing about his glory days on the soccer field. "I used to play," he insists.

13th minute-Dude who ordered a breakfast sandwich can't locate the hot sauce. He looks crestfallen. He's drinking a Guinness. Man, it's early.

15th minute-Everyone cheers as former President Bill Clinton appears in the stands in South Africa. I wonder, "Who's the guy next to him?" Lots of suits standing around. These people are obviously skipping work. One guy wears U.S. flag-themed sunglasses. I don't know how you see through those things.

20th minute-Reporting from the second floor now because the lower level is getting too hardcore for me. Upstairs, two screens show the England game. The other two show the U.S. Everyone seems to be complaining about this. A foul call elicits more groans.

25th minute-Bartender is wearing a Peroni t-shirt. Guess it's a promotional day or something. They're keeping a stockpile of $3 beers in two giant trash cans.

26th minute-U.S. goal is called back offside. "What the fuck was that?" one guy says. Another adds, "So, this ref sucks, too."

29th minute-Everyone seems enraptured; half by the game, the other half by their Blackberries.

34th minute-One suit has both hands on his face in absolute frustration with the quality of U.S. play. Everyone else is ranting. "What are you doing?! Whaaat are you doooooing?!" "All you had to do was touch it!" "Just tap it in! Tap, tap, tap it in!" "Oh my god, you are killing me!" "I'm too old for this shit!"

40th minute-Holla! More cases of Peroni and Miller Lite arrive. A cute guy in a full suit is also wearing a FIFA headband. Interesting outfit.

Halftime-Mass exodus. Well, at least half the bar clears out. Those who remain seem to be getting a bit tipsy: "I looked up and could see all the way up your thigh but you looked bad as hell." "How are you doing, bad boy? I think you need some coffee." One dude's got a towel out, wiping up his sweat. Is it that hot out, man?

53rd minute-Less people for the second half but still pretty crowded. Again, the selection of prospects is better than any given night at this bar. Towel guy is still toweling himself off. Shit, it's not even hot in here.

55th minute-"So tired of this!" annoyed viewer remarks after another U.S. choke. "This physically hurts." Suits are making friends with each other. "So, what do you do?" one asks. "Loan deposits," another replies.

66th minute-Place gets more crowded. Lunchtime, I guess. Fans are becoming more frustrated by the minute. F-bombs left and right: "Fucking score!! Give me a fucking break!" Dude with his hands on his face from earlier is now pulling on his hair. Bartender: "Fucking bullshit."

70th minute-Chants of "U-S-A" begin anew. Score remains 0-0

73rd minute-People might start crying, man. I'm biting my nails! I never bite my nails!

82nd minute-Vibe is so tense. Nobody is on their Blackberry now. Except me, of course. Geez.

87th minute-Some guy cries out, "Go Slovenia!"

89th minute-Fans hate the call. "He just put his hands on the ball!" "Why do you hate us?" "FIFA hates USA"

93rd minute-Finally. Gooooal! "U-S-A" chant begins again. One guy is in tears: "I think my heart stopped beating."

Games resume at 10 a.m. Drinks at 8 a.m. Where to go? Consult our trusty guide: Where to Watch the World Cup.

Photo by Kim Chi Ha

The lone surviving piece of political propaganda after the first Capitol Lounge fire, circa 2005

Popular H Street NE hangout The Argonaut is closed following an apparent kitchen fire on Sunday morning. Photos of the extensive damage have been posted on the place's own web site, which also dishes up some details on the Argo's post-blaze hangover:  

Most of you may not know this, but our kitchen used to be an alley. Which means that the wall separating the kitchen and the bar is an "outside wall" and is several layers of brick. We are very thankful for that brick wall – it helped contain the fire.

Prolific tavern operator Joe Englert, who owns the Argonaut, is no stranger to the inherent fire hazards of the bar and restaurant business. His lawyers just settled a lawsuit with the Hartford Casual Insurance Company over damages associated with a 2007 blaze at one of Englert's other locations, Capitol Lounge on Pennsylvania Avenue SE, according to court records. That fire also damaged the neighboring Trover Shops, which Hartford had insured.

I'm referring to the second Capitol Lounge fire, of course, not the first. Both were reportedly started by errant cigarettes. The first fire, in 2005, radically altered this reformed nightlife reporter's position on D.C.'s smoking ban (although the link to that old City Paper article is, apparently and rather regretably, no longer available).

Argonaut management is organizing a benefit at the neighboring Englert-owned Rock and Rock Hotel on June 30, with proceeds going to help repair the fire damage.

Photo by DCist/Creative Commons Attribution License

M St. NW in Georgetown

Change is coming to Georgetown. Or, at least, more booze is coming.

In a ruling handed down Wednesday, D.C.'s Alcoholic Beverage Control (ABC) Board unanimously voted to amend a decades-old liquor license moratorium in Georgetown.

Since 1989, Georgetown has been notoriously stingy with its liquor licenses—at any given point, no more than 61 licenses were issued in the neighborhood. But Wednesday's ABC Board ruling will add seven licenses, extending the allowable number to 68.

New license applications will be accepted by the D.C. Alcoholic Beverage Regulation Administration (ABRA) on a first-come, first-serve basis, starting tomorrow at 8:30 a.m.

ABC Board member Nick Alberti, subbing for Chairman Charles Brodsky, argued that the increase would not adversely affect the neighborhood, as some residents claimed at last Wednesday's public hearing.

"The implementation of seven new [licenses] would not adversely affect the public peace, order, and quiet or the moratorium," Alberti said. "Specifically, testimony revealed that adding seven restaurant licenses would create a healthy balance of ABC establishments in the commercial mix of businesses in Georgetown."

The Board will revisit Georgetown's moratorium in three years to evaluate if any additional changes need to be made.

In a separate decision, the Board also denied a motion filed by the Citizens Association of Georgetown (CAG) to place seating restrictions on restaurants with Class C and Class D licenses along Prospect St. NW. To support the decision, Alberti cited over 100 letters mailed to the Board protesting the proposed seat limitations.

"[The proposal] could inhibit the economic development of the neighborhood," he said.

Photo by brostad. Creative Commons Attribution License.

In commemoration of D.C. Emancipation Day, bars in the District will be allowed to keep the drinks coming until 3 a.m. Friday morning.

The city's Alcoholic Beverage Regulation Administration (ABRA) informs us via Twitter: “DC gov't offices are closed this Friday – bars can stay open an extra hr Thurs night!"

Mallios was first among a relatively small cadre of D.C. attorneys representing restaurants, bars, clubs, and hotels in front of city liquor authorities; his services helped myriad establishments navigate an arcane licensing process and fend off countless neighbors and advisory neighborhood commissions.

He had been battling cancer for more than five years, says his law partner Steve O'Brien. Mallios had been active and practicing before his illness suddenly worsened a week ago.

O'Brien, a longtime competitor of Mallios' before their practices recently merged, says he cut a swath in the legal community that will not soon be filled. "Dmitri was my partner for three years; he was my friend for 30 years. Everything I know about alcoholic beverage law I learned from Dimitri. He is irreplaceable."

Legendary trial lawyer Jacob Stein counted Mallios as a friend for 40 years. "Personally, he had a great sense of humor," he says, and as a lawyer, "he was practical, sensible, empirical, and had no traces of ideology....A client who retained him would get the best service on offer."

"He was splendid with clients," Stein added, "and the clients are often very difficult to deal with."

Laurie Collins, a former ABC board member and a fellow parishioner at St. Sophia Greek Orthodox Cathedral remembers him as "a sweet, sweet man and a good lawyer."

"He was loved by not only the business community, which he mostly represented," she says, "but I think the community was very fond of him. He was very fair."

Andrew J. Kline, general counsel to the Restaurant Association Metropolitan Washington and another titan of the liquor bar, remembers him as "someone who was respected by his clients, his colleagues....He knew how to represent folks in the hospitality industry and represent them well."

The "dean" label, incidentally, was well earned—Mallios was referred to as such in a footnote to a D.C. Council committee report on a late '90s rewrite of the city alcoholic beverage laws. LL will also add that Mallios' checkbook will be missed by city officeholders—he was a frequent donor to local candidates.

But his friends will miss him more.

Says Kline, "I loved him. He was my friend, and we'll all miss him a lot."

Adds Stein, "I really, really miss him. He is a part of my own existence. There are certain things that he and I knew about that we would talk about, and now have I no one to talk about them with."

UPDATE, 2:49 P.M.: Lynne Breaux, RAMW president, notes that Mallios was recipient of her organization's Duke Zeibert Capital Achievement Award this year. That honor goes to "an individual whose dedication and leadership have helped transform Washington’s restaurant scene into today’s vibrant and thriving industry."

His write-up in the awards program: "Known as the dean of Washington’s Alcoholic Beverage Control attorneys, Dimitri Mallios is also called THE man to know…and the man to thank when you order your next margarita. Dimitri grew up in the restaurant business in DC – Trio, one of Washington’s classics – and attended GWU, undergraduate and law, giving him a distinct advantage of native regional knowledge. As described by the Washington Business Journal, Dimitri is “soft spoken but effective. Direct but respectful. Tough but good hearted.” A rare individual and an exceptional lawyer, we toast Dimitri Mallios and his significant contribution to the restaurant industry in the Washington Metropolitan area." More here.

UPDATE, 9/21: Restaurateur and impresario Joe Englert offers a less reverent but plenty heartfelt tribute to Mallios at Young & Hungry.

That was last year. In 2009, Bowers has managed three arrests, scoring a felony on the third. It’s the sixth time Dewey Beach Police have collared Bowers. They even banned him from the town.
What makes Whirlybird Bowers come back for more?

Bowers’ 2009 arrest record commenced normally enough, one for underage drinking on May 20 and one for being in a package store around Memorial Day. Bowers stuck around after Memorial Day, crashing in the rental house he used as a base of operations. Eventually, the landlord had enough and evicted him.

That night, Bowers walked in the front door, grabbed a beer from the fridge and flipped on the TV. A resident leaseholder found Bowers on the couch, apparently unaware that he was ever evicted.

When he asked Bowers what he was doing, Bowers stood, announced, “I’m gonna fuck you up,” and duffed the leaseholder in the face. After a brief scuffle on the floor, Bowers fled out the door and into the night.

As of May 26, he was at large. When I asked seasonal officer Nate Hollis about Bowers, he rolled his eyes.
“He just does not seem to have the capability to learn,” Hollis said dryly. Out of all the Dewey cops, Hollis has the most face time with Bowers. He said every time he processed Bowers, the youth would ask if he was charged with a felony. When Hollis invariably said no, Bowers would smile and laugh to himself.

“Burglary One,” said Hollis. “That’s a felony. He entered a house he was evicted from and drank a beer that wasn’t his.” He smiled with half his mouth. “I can’t wait to tell him, yes, this time it’s a felony.”

Bowers turned himself in the next morning, sober and polite, cooperative throughout the process of his incarceration. Sgt. Cliff Dempsey said if Bowers gives cops the slip, he almost always turns himself in.

Messages to Bowers were unreturned. I don’t want to ask him if a felony arrest has chastened his inner party-animal. Really, I want to know if his Starboard performance will see a reprise – and, if so, can I sell tickets?

In the Dewey Beach Police complaints log, the fracas reads as “Mama Celeste’s, Offensive Touching P.O.” I have no clue what P.O. means. Perhaps Pissed Off, in which case I’d tack on Drunk and Hungry. At 1 a.m. last Sunday morning, Dewey’s most popular pizza den was a mobbed with the bar backwash, and the 40-year-old was waiting on the last pie of her $80 order. While her head was turned, a pie disappeared; the last she saw of it was a pair of sneakers bolting out the door. Apparently, a pair of teenagers jacked her chow.

This ended the only way theft of drunk food can end in Dewey Beach. The woman became enraged, accusing the teens around her of aiding and abetting the thieves, in particular an 18-year-old girl who held a carton of cheese fries. The 40-year-old sent the fries flying and the mayhem began.

When the Dewey police arrived, the gore of melted cheese and tomato sauce was everywhere, the $80 tower of pizza toppled and smashed into the floor. The woman was bruised and scraped-up from her tussle with the teens, and the 18-year-old sported incisor marks on her forehead.

Sgt. Cliff Dempsey sounded less impressed with the wound than the tomato sauce carnage.

“I mean, there was pizza everywhere,” he said.

The maker of the caffeinated schnapps Wide Eye has agreed to settle Federal Trade Commission charges that its advertisements were “deceptive, unsubstantiated, and in violation of federal law.”

Coming in flavors like Pomegranate Spice, Cherry Bomb and Mango Chill, Wide Eye is one of many alcoholic energy drinks that started turning up in liquor stories in the last year or so. But the FTC says its maker, Constellation Brands Inc., has no credible evidence to back up claims that the liqueur as a great way to get a buzz on without losing your edge.

“The truth is that alcohol and caffeine could be a dangerous mix, and a claim like that can have very serious consequences,” says Eileen Harrington, acting director of the FTC’s Bureau of Consumer Protection.

FTC officials have been on a roll recently. On Tuesday, they nabbed Kmart Corp. and two other companies for greenwashing. All three were charged with making “false and unsubstantiated claims” that paper plates, paper towels and moist wipes that they sold were biodegradable.

Hello. I'm Rob Kunzig. I'm a reporter and editor living in coastal Delaware, and I want to introduce you to Dewey Beach.

A mile south of Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, Route 1 swerves right and the speed limit drops to 30. A marquee advertises the bands blowing through town that week, mostly burnt-out ’90s legends and cover bands. The crosswalks are busy with bikinied girls and shirtless frat boys lugging 30-racks of Miller Light. The highway ahead is a corridor of traffic lights and bar signs that glow and hum like bug zappers. A greeting placard reads DEWEY BEACH: A WAY OF LIFE.

Like many beach towns, Dewey is a catchall for the sins and stresses of surrounding cities. Weekenders swarm south from Pennsylvania and east from D.C., filling rental houses and hotels and hanging sodden towels from balconies and porch railings. Half of Dewey life is relaxed, copacetic, like “The Big Chill” without Jeff Goldblum: Beltway warriors kick off their loafers, pop “Graceland” in the stereo and quaff gin and tonics with friends. Think screened -in porches and the smell of citronella.

The other half is a boozy swirl of youth, sex and skull-numbing noise. Bouncers at Northbeach, a bayside bar known for $1 Bud Lights on Tuesday night, give you the wand-down as if it were BWI. The bathrooms at the Rusty Rudder feel like a refugee camp: After waiting twenty minutes to take a piss, you must negotiate floors covered in urine, beer and broken glass. Vomit rims the toilet seats.

Drinks are hurried cocktails made with cheap liquor and dumped into plastic cups by overworked bartenders. The cover bands play all the hits, and you hate it, it’s awful and you’re too old for this. Or maybe you aren’t. Maybe you love this song, and you’re high on the crowd, roiling and popping like grease in a skillet. You’re 21, and the night glows orange with sodium lamps. Anything is possible.

Tomorrow you’ll wake up hungover but happy. At The Starboard, boys and girls chastened by headaches suck down Bloody Marys. Theo’s diner percolates with coffee, waffles and eggs tinted yellow with hot grease. Beach chairs unfold. A cop flips on his lights and makes the day’s first routine traffic stop. The asphalt of Route 1 glitters under the sun, and you? You’re on vacation. You are, for better or worse, in Dewey Beach – which is, if you believe the sign, a way of life.

Good morning, City Desk readers. Some news:

• OffSeventh has a message for Feinstein and Bennett, regarding extended bar hours for inauguration: "Stick to your states unless you are willing to pay for this whole thing." Edgar says, "I’m sick of these new arrivals trying to smear their smelly poop all over the most excellent party to hit DC since Nixon resigned."
• What is (was) Truxton Circle? Where would it go? (Why) Do we need it? bloomingdale (for now) makes the case for bringing Truxton back.
• Petworth News reminds you that there's an art fair this weekend at Domku. (If you're not up for Scandinavian food, check out Kilroy Cleaners–it's participating in the art fair by offering 5% dry cleaning discounts!)
• And Now, Anacostia has updates on the community's efforts to save 1357 Good Hope.
• Officer Chante Brodie, the MPD's community outreach coordinator for 4D, has some advice on how to keep your home and neighborhood burglary-free. (Speaking only for my stretch of street: I'd have to call the cops every 15 minutes if I stuck to these guidelines.)
• Jesse Jackson Jr. didn't do it.
• Those bastards in Detroit got what they wanted. If Mark Pinsky has anything to say about it, journalism is next on the list.

Photo courtesy of flickr user walknboston.