This past weekend many underclassmen found their nighttime plans hindered by the authoritative response to copious alcohol violations and incidents. Most of the infractions involved and implicated Charles Village bars and pubs, culminating last Wednesday night, October 12, when an unidentified freshman was hospitalized due to alcohol poisoning, following a night at Maxies Pizza Bar & Grill.
In the days following the incident, the Baltimore police have seemingly descended on the bars and pubs frequented by Hopkins students, resulting in far more stringent carding policies at the door and, consequently, droves of unoccupied, disenchanted underage students.
The increase in security, however, is "not a specific crackdown," according to Carrie Bennett, Hopkins' Student/Community Liaison, but rather, a general response to an increased cognizance of the issues of underage alcohol consumption by Hopkins students.
"There has been a larger presence of police officers along Charles Street since the beginning of the year," Bennett said. "It seems obvious to me that the police have stepped up in checking on underage drinking."
In a phone call on Wednesday night, Maxies' owner and manager Chil Thong refuted the campus rumor that that bar had lost its liquor license, and acknowledged that the police have "just been doing their job."
"I don't fault the police and university at all—they're trying to enforce the law," he said. "Yeah, they're breaking up a party, but by the same token, they're ultimately protecting the business."
However, he lamented the apparent double standard between interference at Maxie's and at other Charles Village watering holes.
"It bothers me that Hopkins security and Baltimore police have posted up outside of the building 24-7," he said. "I feel like we're being blackballed, because kids don't want to be around the police, even if they're not drinking. And obviously, I don't condone underage drinking."
For what may have been the first time this semester, Maxie's was virtually inaccessible to underage students in the nights after the student's hospitalization. From Thursday through Saturday, Baltimore police officers flanked the bar's employees at both restaurant and patio entrances during peak hours, discouraging those under 21 from attempting to sneak in or use a fake ID.
In addition to guarding the door, officers allegedly entered the downstairs bar section of the facility, instructing all who appeared underage to leave the premises.
Despite complaints from bar-going undergraduates, Bennett, contends that things could be "much worse," citing past examples of undercover agents and mass citations. So far, frat parties remain unaffected by recent police activity, likely due in part to Bennett's careful monitoring and preventive shushing.
Bennett is by no means an advocate of underage drinking, though. "Incredibly stupid" is how she describes derivative actions of intoxication, notably public urination.
On the other hand, statistics show that underage drinking is a basic component of the college experience. A 2008 study conducted by the Century Council, a distillery-funded organization that serves to eradicate underage drinking and drunk driving, revealed that 80 percent of college students admitted to consuming alcohol in the month prior to the survey.
A 2002 Harvard University study, meanwhile, concluded that almost 20 percent of college students possess fake identification.
The immediate future of the Hopkins bar scene is at this time unclear, though police efforts to keep underage students out of bars has continued into this week. Shortly after 10 p.m. on Monday evening, five nights after the incident at Maxie's, the establishment was still.
"Coming from a student's perspective, it's interesting that the police have come down on bars and not, say, frats," senior Lindsay Edwards, one of the few patrons of the bar that night, said.
"It's a college, and kids are going to use fakes to lie to bars. And if they see fakes, and they look legitimate, then the bars are going to let them in. That's how you run a business."
Downstairs, the bar was desolate, with the LCD television—ESPN, Dolphins versus Jets, early in the second half—dominating the ambiance.
Outside, meanwhile, Baltimore police officer C. Torres leaned against the restaurant's tan brick façade. He claimed his presence was not related to the recent upswing in alcohol enforcement. He was not there, he said, on an alcohol-related assignment.
"No," he said before turning to cross the street. "I'm just here to keep my eyes on what's going on."
