Shared History
After 25 years on 17th Street, JR.'s is an institution for both the neighborhood and the gay community
My first trips to D.C. while I was still a college student in southwestern Virginia were particularly strong indicators of what a country boy I really was. For a 19-year-old who grew up surrounded by open fields, cow barns and combines, Washington seemed huge. The 12-story buildings, broad state avenues, tightly packed townhouses and rage-inducing traffic jams, while all small in comparison to a megalopolis like New York City, still define for me what it means to live in the big city.
Naturally, once I moved here I wanted to live in the gayest neighborhoods I could afford, which at the beginning meant not very gay at all – H Street in Northeast had yet to go through its urban renewal way back in 1990. It took a couple years, but I finally found myself living in the Dupont Circle neighborhood, just off 17th Street.
So JR.’s, along with the many other restaurants and bars sprinkled along that corridor, was a big part of my young gay life in the city. Unlike Badlands or Tracks (or, later, Nation), nightclubs that I would hit on very specific nights every week — the rigidity of a ’90s-era gay-nightlife schedule could approach the level of catechism – JR.’s was a place that offered more flexibility. It was my neighborhood bar, the place where you could meet friends after work for a drink, drop by on Saturday afternoon, and generally go when you felt like it.
Of course, I wouldn’t miss a Sunday night there — ditching out on 75-cent Cape Cods with my friends was simply not done.
All that means I have a lot of memories of the place, from working the long-lost pinball machine to always making my way to Eric Little’s station at the end of the bar to grab my cocktails. I met Rosie O’Donnell there on the upper balcony. I watched Absolutely Fabulous on the giant projection TV screen (now replaced by sleeker flat-screen panels). I hung out there during a blizzard that shut down most of the city, and ducked inside during summer thunderstorms. I met a number of my boyfriends there. I broke up with a couple of them there, too. And I made friends there, who I can still call friends to this day.
Not a bad place to have just a few short blocks from my apartment.
Gay and lesbian bars, like gay print media, face constant predictions of doom and gloom, so to see any succeed long-term gives a certain sense of satisfaction. To see JR.’s celebrate 25 years on 17th Street makes me happy in a totally selfish way as well — it means an important part of my own history as a gay man in D.C. continues as a part of our community, a shared experience across different generations and decades. Things change in our community, as they should — a static life is a boring life. But continuity also has its pleasures, and still being able to people watch with friends from the big windows of JR.’s is one of them.
Twenty-five years of business is an accomplishment to mark and celebrate. My congratulations to Eric Little and Dave Perruzza on shepherding a community institution to the quarter-century mark, and best wishes on the journey to the next landmark anniversary.
Support Metro Weekly’s Journalism
These are challenging times for news organizations. And yet it’s crucial we stay active and provide vital resources and information to both our local readers and the world. So won’t you please take a moment and consider supporting Metro Weekly with a membership? For as little as $5 a month, you can help ensure Metro Weekly magazine and MetroWeekly.com remain free, viable resources as we provide the best, most diverse, culturally-resonant LGBTQ coverage in both the D.C. region and around the world. Memberships come with exclusive perks and discounts, your own personal digital delivery of each week’s magazine (and an archive), access to our Member's Lounge when it launches this fall, and exclusive members-only items like Metro Weekly Membership Mugs and Tote Bags! Check out all our membership levels here and please join us today!
