This is going to be the shortest of my Washington reviews, in large part because it was nearly 11:30 before I finally bellied up here, after great times at PS7 and the speakeasy inside The Passenger: Columbia Room. Maggi and I had wandered by the entrance to The Passenger earlier in the day, to make sure of our bearings, and we had raised an eyebrow upon seeing it. Despite being about two blocks from what I just described as the glittering power neighborhood surrounding PS7, the block the Passenger is on seems a bit… disreputable. This is due in no small part to the entrance to The Passenger itself. You see, when I finally got back there after walking my flagging wife back to our hotel, it dawned on me that, “Hey! This is a dive bar!”
I am not a fan of dive bars.
But that is because most dive bars aren’t anything like The Passenger. Sure, the place is raucous, ratty, and a bit run down (artfully so). But the drinks were awesome.
The Passenger taught me something about myself: Why I don’t like dive bars. I always thought I was just too effete for that scene. When your nose is as big as mine, you notice it when you find it shoved up in the air. But no. The reason I don’t like dive bars is because I can’t get a decent cocktail in one. In the Passenger you can’t get a decent cocktail either. You get a fabulous one. With that fixed, I loved the atmosphere.
So whether you are a real dive bar lover, or a total cocktail geek, you need to drop in for at least one drink at The Passenger if you visit Washington. And for those of you who live close enough, why isn’t this your hangout already?
Apparently, I’m not quite the snob I thought I was!
You’re pretty much a snob.
This review is part of my larger Great Cross-Country Bar Crawl series. Here is the main post for our Washington stop, with links to all reviews for DC.