Your J.Paul's Memories - 25 Years & Counting!

After the summer volleyball season, Theresa and I joked about going back one Wednesday night to visit Billy, but we never made it out. A year passed and another season of volleyball started as did our margaritas at J. Paul’s. We wondered if Billy would still be working there and we were pleasantly surprised to see him before our first game. Every week we looked forward to our visits and the time we got to vent about work, catch up on gossip or just talk about our weekend plans.

This past summer was our third year playing volleyball. Our J. Paul’s tradition became especially important to me because I changed jobs and lost touch with Theresa somewhat. We continued to meet up for a drink before our games as usual and then we started going back for another after our games bringing with us more teammates. On days Theresa would be running late, or vice versa, we still had Billy to chat with and another bartender, Jen who started working the same evenings.

So, thinking of J. Paul’s, Billy and Jen always makes me smile because without even trying, they have all played a role in bringing a group of busy friends together for some quality time to laugh or forget about our stresses, even if for a short time. A million thanks to Billy and Jen for being awesome and thank you J. Paul for hiring fantastic staff!

To anyone else, if during the summer of 2009 you happen to be at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor on a Wednesday night, just look for Theresa and me sitting outside at J. Paul’s drinking a couple of frozen margaritas, no salt… no doubt we will be there in our volleyball shirts, but if you miss us, stick around anyway and let Billy or Jen make you a margarita, yum!

I’m not sure what brought us to J. Paul’s when we first came to drop her off for freshman year. We were out for a nice Sunday breakfast and didn’t know anyplace at all to go in DC. Foregoing the GWU Hospital cafeteria for a more lively, welcoming atmosphere, it was probably the windows open to the sidewalk and passing pedestrians, and the boisterous, happy crowd inside, that drew us in then. Or it might have been the posted menu, and the opportunity to order just one single oyster of the many types offered that look so tempting in the fresh ice by the window. And that’s from a family that can gather all the oysters we want from our backyard Florida waters (in season only, of course). We have been back to J. Paul’s ever since, at least once on every one of our DC visits that followed.

That even includes President’s Day weekend. I imagine that’s something most DC area residents wouldn’t even think of, but we’ve spent that mid-winter holiday weekend flying the opposite (and what you might think the wrong) way, on the planes that allow District area folks to get a few days of mid-winter sun down here in Florida. And often at some great rates, since they’re looking for any passengers they can get when they fly back to pick up the next load of sun-deprived people. In the meantime, we’d get a nice, short feel of winter, and to visit J. Paul’s at a different time, with the windows closed, and a cozy, warm winter feeling we can never get here in Florida.

I’ve since learned J. Paul’s is celebrating its 25th birthday, a surprise to me since it feels like it’s been there at least for the hundred years or more that the bar’s been around. I learned this on my last visit there, just a few weekends ago, while helping my now full time employed and graduate school student daughter move into her new apartment. It was another pleasant Sunday morning, and it brought back vivid memories of how she has grown and evolved since our first visit there four years before, dealing with the trepidations of her leaving her small home town for the first time to attend an unfamiliar school 1000 miles away. J. Paul’s has been a constant in those memories for us, in the process becoming as traditional and dependable as our regular hometown places.

While DC is not my home, it has become my daughter’s now, and it’s nice to know that any visit we have with her there, we can come to J. Paul’s and recall how our family history has changed since our first time four years ago. Thanks for being part of it, and being so welcoming.

Being from Missouri and working retail (the NIKE shop), I couldn’t make it back home for Thanksgiving in 1984. However, I had one of the best Thanksgiving dinners ever at J. Paul’s. Incredible that they served such a huge crowd that day! Many thanks to all who made my work experience (1984-1985) so much fun. And to all the great people I met there, either working or not – thank you for enriching my life.

Best wishes and congrats to all who made the first 25 years a huge success. Here’s to the next 25! Still the best crab cakes I’ve ever had.

We went in and were introduced to our waiter - Jason. We noted Jason was wearing a shirt with J. Paul’s on it and asked if the shirts were for sale. He said he didn’t think so. My husband went on to explain our son, J. Paul, had been in a motor vehicle accident April 1999 - and was left with extensive brain damage and was wheelchair bound. He wanted a shirt for him. Jason explained the shirts are not sold to the public - but because of the circumstances he allowed my husband to purchase one for our son.

Thank you again. We enjoyed our meal (crab cakes), the service and the view of the harbor that day. We returned for another great meal before we left for home. MaryAnn and Charles K. Paul II

We visited Washington, DC about 6 years ago and decided to find somewhere to eat dinner since it seemed everything in downtown Washington, closed down at dinner time. We drove around for a while through Georgetown and decided to try this restaurant that looked busy and inviting. We went in and to our surprise found a great welcoming restaurant. Michael ordered the ribs and to this day, has never stopped talking about how great they were; perfectly cooked and seasoned. We recently returned, November 2007, to Washington for another visit and decided to drive through Georgetown to find J.Paul's; of course, we forgot to bring the address with us. We drove endlessly becoming very frustrated and hungry and finally decided to just park at this great spot we found right on the main street. Looking up at the glass window we parked in front of made us both laugh - it was in fact J.Paul's. I went inside to check with the waiter to be sure we were safe to park where we were and I was told that we had better move quick as they ticket cars on this main street during rush hour. We parked around the corner in the garage under the mall only to come into the mall and become frustrated again. We couldn't find a door to get outside; finally remembering the store that is close by, we found our way to the restaurant and the food and drink was just as wonderful as our first meal there. We will definitely return on our next trip to Washington, now that we know exactly where to find you.

My sister had called and begged, pleaded and cajoled me into going out to Georgetown with her. She needed a “girl’s night out” to help her recover from a recent break up. “What do you hope to accomplish?” I tried to reason with her. “Nobody who hangs out in bars is worth meeting. Come on over to watch Falcon Crest instead.” Because she would not take no as an answer, I gathered my unkempt hair into a bun, pulled on a pair of tight jeans, dressed it up with a silk blouse, and left my son asleep with my mom, watching Falcon Crest by herself.

My sister and I made J Paul’s our first stop. In 1984, many Georgetown bars had pseudo dress codes. Jeans, held over from the seventies by popular demand, were still relatively ubiquitous, but the Reagan administration’s tenure had made the look and scent of money more popular, so shoes, shirts and hairstyles had to be just right. It was not uncommon for men to wear business suits out on a Friday night, and when we arrived at J. Paul’s, it was already crowded with the same men in suits I’d spent the week with in downtown D.C.: pale, preening, and more interested in impressing each other, I thought, than any woman destined to be a peripheral part of a power broker’s life.

We made our way to the bar, where two seats were miraculously unoccupied. I faced the wall, and while my sister surveyed the room, I pulled one of my son’s forgotten super balls from the pocket of my jeans and smiled down at the thought of him. He was the biggest blessing in my life, but he was also the reason men stepped cautiously around me. I wondered if he was sleeping and again felt the pull to go home. But the bartender was friendly, the beer was ice cold and tasty, and the room was beautiful, so I turned around on the bar stool and scanned the crowd. Out of place among the business suits was a deeply tanned young man staring back at me. He wore a sport coat with jeans, and his longish dark hair skimmed the open collar of his shirt. I must have smiled because he was soon at my side, never to leave it again. As we talked I found out he’d just finished graduate school in California and had come to Washington via Hawaii. The two of us talked for hours until my sister suggested a change in venue, and as the three of us made our way to the door, I handed a my son’s unwanted super ball to a confused but grateful stranger.

Ten years later to the day, we held our new-born daughter in the hospital and toasted the day we met at J. Paul’s. Twenty years later, we ordered a champagne brunch to celebrate a marriage made possible by my sister’s notion that one can meet a soul mate anywhere, even, or perhaps especially, at a bar like J Paul’s.

We had the time of our lives!! I ended up getting my voice back after only one beer!! It was one of the best New Year's Eves ever!! The crowd was pumped. It was more like a frat party than a bar. AND, at midnight, I found myself high above the crowd being passed around from person to person like a college coach after winning the Rose Bowl--screaming and laughing and dizzy with happiness that I made it to the hottest party in DC. I'll never forget that silly, fun, crazy night at J.Paul's.

Charlie and I put in our time waiting for a table, bought t-shirts, talked about our hurting feet and watched the lively, well-dressed DC evening crowd flirt and mingle. Charlie, especially, was just humoring his sister until his steak arrived. Then he was immediately convinced. I remember it to be a New York strip loaded with onions on top. It was life changing! It appears that every steak the kid orders for the rest of his life will be attempting to measure up to "the one I had at J Paul's."

Thought you should know that you are right up there with the top sights to see in DC and that your steak was rated 5 star by a 15 year old from Minnesota! Congratulations on your anniversary - your service was great and we will be back when we get to town!

After I finally got the nerve to ask her dad for his daughter's hand in marriage, I devised my plan on how I would "pop the question". I arranged our weekend visits so that I came to Baltimore on the weekend of her birthday in September of 1998. I showed up that weekend with a small gift bag - bemoaning the "fact" that I was late in ordering her "real" present and so had settled for a "little something" until her real gift was ready.

We came to J. Paul's for dinner and had a great table looking out to the harbor. After ordering our drinks and looking over the menu, I offered to let her open her gift - "since it's just a little something until your real gift is ready." (I was obviously anxious to move the process along and she was a trying to downplay the fact that I had waited too long to order her real gift!) She, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to open her present before dinner. She took the bag, reached in, and pulled out a little Precious Moments figurine. At first, it appeared she was a bit uncertain as to what to make of such a "unique" 26th birthday gift. Then she saw the engagement ring, taped to the little statue’s hand.

Just as she realized what was happening, the waiter returned to the table with our drinks and asked if we were ready to order. The only response was "We just got engaged!" An apparent expert at such events, the waiter politely congratulated us and walked away to give us time to enjoy the moment. A minute (or two?) later, the maitre de arrived with complimentary champagne. Needless to say, we had a wonderful experience!

J Paul's was an important piece of a meaningful time in our relationship. We now live in Baltimore and fondly remember the night of our engagement every time we go to the Inner Harbor. This summer will be the 10th anniversary of our engagement at your restaurant. We hope to enjoy the occasion the same way we did 10 years ago.

Thanks – both for the way your staff treated us on that day 10 years ago, and for allowing us to tell our story.