Its iPod playlist stands up to what you might hear at H20 or Gate 54 downstairs at Café Saint-Ex. The WaPo characterized its music as “Latin and Afro-pop.” And although Nutella crepe filling and green tea tapioca jellies might cost extra, its dance party comes absolutely gratis.

Almost a year into business, Georgetown’s Snap has gone from cute and discreet to a veritable LuLu’s reincarnation on the C&O Canal. Last month, the music got loud enough that an older neighbor in sandals and a bathrobe—perhaps for dramatic effect, but we’ll take it—was prompted to barge into the spot and kill the outdoor speakers with his cane, Preston Brooks-style.

But Snap's troubles haven't ended with the destruction of the speakers -- and the place might be up against more than one angry neighbor. The developing saga raises the question whether small businesses on semi-residential blocks can co-exist with their neighbors.

Because owner Margarita Uricoechea has lately spent more time selling homes than crepes—she’s also a local real estate agent—her fresh-faced partners, mostly students, have been running the shop. They bring their iPods to work everyday and spin crepe batter almost as often as their beats.

In all fairness, Snap (which oddly no longer accepts cash) does warn you on its website that “world music” is part of the deal. But according to one younger Snap cashier (which the position must still be called), the music “wasn’t even that loud.” Indeed, if Uricoechea hadn't been so calm and collected about the drama, the cashier swears she would have called the cops.

Perhaps Uricoechea might have come down hard on the interloper right out of the gate. About every other week since the caning, at least one of the outdoor free-standing “Snap” signs has ended up in the dumpster. The vandals—either bored-to-tears high school punks or longtime local residents—have even thrown the poor thing into the Canal.

Two weekends ago, Snap's young staff was busy representing at the recent Pride Festival, where the organizers must have known their thoughts on music—their booth was placed directly under the stage. Perhaps distracted by the rainbowed, holographic dog leashes or intriguing booths such as "Affirmation," the Gay-Mormon organization, one student-employee didn't notice the snatching of his precious Pod.

Though we have no evidence it was the man in the robe with the feisty cane, Bathrobe Bandit does have a nice ring to it. Could someone else be tussling against Snap’s blaring bebop?

snap
1062 Thomas Jefferson Street NW
(202) 965-7627