The senior class owes a big thank you to fellow senior Meghan Beattie for advocating a cause very near and dear to our hearts. Of course, I’m talking about the Homebar situation.
For those of you who went on the first Thursday of the semester (and that’s pretty much everyone), you know what I’m talking about.
Our treasured, wooden-planked, beer-stained second home was invaded by aliens to Homebar: underclassmen. While we all love a full crowd at our beloved bar, it’s unbearable when the place is packed to the brim. Especially with underage kids.
The bar was exploding with the usual suspects (us) and all the newbies (them). You had to fight to the death just to grab a beer, when it normally takes less than five minutes. Come on, if we felt like waiting an hour to get a drink, we would have gone to Suite.
The dance floor was a whole other story. I’ve heard horror stories of my friends being assaulted by guys who are either trying to walk by or cop a cheap feel without getting caught. There was no room to do anything even resembling dancing to “Shout!” because the crowds were shoulder to shoulder. What made it worse was that it was too cold to stand outside, so we were stuck breaking every personal space law known to college co-eds.
Add some freshmen and sophomores to the mix and that’s a cocktail called “disaster.” Hey kiddies, I have nothing against you; actually, I’m a little jealous that you still have a few years of college left. But let us have our bar. Please.
Our class all knows of the original Green Elephant on Yale Boulevard. It was this almighty bar that in no way would allow a fake ID. We drove by it on our way to Greenville Avenue and stared at it wonderingly from the foggy windows of Jack’s Pub, thinking that one day, we would get to go to the “senior bar.” Those dreams got crushed two years ago when the Green Elephant closed its doors.
Thankfully Homebar, aka: the (new) Green Elephant has fulfilled our dreams of the senior bar, becoming home to so many of us on Thursday nights. It’s the place that guarantees a wild night and a really painful next morning. It’s the place that kicks off the weekend-unless you’re the unlucky senior who has class on Friday. It’s the place we go to catch up with friends we don’t see otherwise. And I would be lying if I didn’t say it’s the place where we avoid awkward run-ins with previous significant others or last-Thursday’s love. Oh, we all secretly know that it’s fun making our exes jealous.
For the first Thursday of our last semester in college, we had high hopes of the bar we temporarily parted with for winter break. But the overcrowding and underage drinkers immediately killed our buzz.
“Last Thursday I went and talked to the bartender and the night manager,” Beattie said. “I told them that not only are the underage drinkers over-crowding us, but they are a liability for the business.”
We saw an improvement the following week.
“Last Thursday started off much better, and I heard of more people getting turned down,” Beattie said. “But as the night went on, I saw a few underage students.”
Senior class, I encourage you to fight back and join Beattie’s cause. If the situation continues to get worse, the TABC will hear about it. And please, Homebar management, keep us safely under the maximum capacity limit, (which is 299 for the inside and 100 outside).
To everyone under the glorious age of 21, you will have your turn. Well, unless the bar is shut down because you keep coming every Thursday. Homebar is a right of passage. A senior tradition. A legacy we wish to leave you one day.
“It’s the Cheers for seniors,” Beattie said. “Where everybody knows your name.”
Let’s keep it that way.
About the writer:
Annalise Ghiz is a senior journalism major. She can be reached at [email protected].
