FOOD YOUNG & HUNGRY
Drink To Your Health Darrow Montgomery
Research suggests that being a regular at a neighborhood bar can be as good for your emotional well-being as it is for your social life.
Kojo Nnamdi enjoys a drink at the Hitching Post
By Matthew Stoss Contributing Writer Even on the nights he’s not drinking, Kojo Nnamdi still likes to visit the Hitching Post. “I’ll drink lemonade or some other nonalcoholic beverage,” says the longtime host of WAMU’s The Politics Hour with Kojo Nnamdi. He’s been a regular at the hallowed Petworth hub for about 25 of the 54 years it’s been in business. He goes to relieve stress, sometimes several times a week. “It’s the comfort level,” he says. “It’s what it does for my brain.” “I can relax immediately and have a pleasant, often joke-filled conversation among people I associate with on a regular basis,” Nnamdi adds. “I wouldn’t say everybody at the Hitching Post is somebody I would consider a friend, but they are certainly associates that I enjoy spending time with. It helps me come down from thinking about serious things. Even though serious things may come up at the Hitching Post, it’s in a completely different environment.”
According to research dating back to the 1970s, this is the psychological allure and benefit of being a regular at a neighborhood bar. The practice can help us manage emotions, make friends, maintain relationships, and expose us to new ideas and people. “[Those relationships] put us in a good mood,” says Gillian Sandstrom, a psychologist at the University of Essex in England. “They help us feel connected to other people, which is this fundamental need we have as human beings.” A 2016 study conducted in bars around Oxford, England, examined these relationships in-depth. Led by Oxford psychologist Robin Dunbar and commissioned by the U.K. consumer organization Campaign for Real Ale, “Friends on Tap: The Role of Pubs at the Heart of the Community” suggests that local bars are among the best venues to meet like-minded people, even comparing them to places of worship, and that moderate drinking can improve a person’s social skills, mental health, and overall well-being.
22 DECEMBER 3, 2021 WASHINGTONCITYPAPER.COM
The report implores us to get off our phones and suggests that people who frequent a neighborhood bar have more friends from different cultures and social classes, are more involved with their communities, more trusting of others, and less lonely than those whose social circles are limited to work and home. The report also finds that regulars tend to drink less per outing than people drinking on their own or at big downtown bars, citing a group-moderation effect. According to the study, “People are likely to drink less if those around them are behaving in a more measured way, and are, as a result, likely to be less tolerant of socially inappropriate or excessive behavior.” For a big group out for a night, drinking can be an objective, but for regulars at their neighborhood spot, drinking often is secondary to the fellowship—as it is for Nnamdi at the Hitching Post. Nnamdi says he first popped in because he found the plain-looking building on Upshur Street NW intriguing. He couldn’t tell if it was
a residence or a business. The Hitching Post’s communal confines compelled him to stick around and return ad infinitum. “I probably ordered some fried chicken— their fried chicken was always very good— and started striking up conversations with the people at the bar,” he says, referring to his first visit. “I enjoyed it and went back again, and to my surprise, some of the same people who were there the first time I went there were there again.” Nnamdi made a habit of returning and knew he could count on engaging in a good conversation. When the “Friends on Tap” researchers compared small community bars to their big downtown counterparts—those that tend to be less intimate and have more transient clientele—they found that people typically visit the downtown bars in bigger groups, often on their way to somewhere else, like a club. The interactions within those groups tended to be shorter and not so intimate—and with a lot more phone-checking. The opposite happens at local bars. “I always say, ‘Hey, this is cheaper than therapy,’” says Herman Lutz, an IT guy who’s been a regular at Georgetown’s Tony and Joe’s Seafood Place for six years. “You’re in a relaxed environment, and little by little you start saying things. You’re basically venting stuff, but you’re laughing. Laughter’s important. It’s just like you’re communicating more. … With this group of people, you can open up and let loose and walk away.” In a seminal and oft-cited 1973 paper that helped create this field of study, Stanford sociologist Mark Granovetter examined the sorts of relationships and interactions Lutz and Nnamdi are describing. Called “weak ties,” these seemingly frivolous or non-intensive relationships are low investment and potentially high reward. Take for example the barista you see every morning, making small talk with a work colleague on a serendipitously shared elevator ride, or idly confabulating with two strangers over beers in a pub. Sandstrom studies this sort of rapport, also known as minimal social interactions. She became interested in the subject while getting her Ph.D. at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. A woman working at a hot dog stand on campus inspired her. “Every time I walked past her, I’d smile and wave, and she’d smile and wave back,” Sandstrom says. “It took me a while, but I realized how good it made me feel, and then I started wondering: Maybe lots of people have people like this hot dog lady in our lives—people who make us feel good and make us feel grounded and part of the social fabric and who we don’t really pay attention to.” Sandstrom doesn’t consider the hot dog vendor a stranger, even though they’ve never spoken or exchanged names. The delineation is mutual recognition, and from there, the relationship can escalate or ebb. Weak ties exist on a spectrum and are predicated on common ground. For Sandstrom and the hot dog vendor, the common ground was simple proximity. At the Hitching Post, it’s something
