Via the DCist tipline, we heard there may have been a fire at year-old Mt. Vernon Square-area coffee shop Breakwell’s, on the corner of 9th and M Streets NW. Sure enough, the windows at the front and along the side of the shop have been boarded up, and there is visible fire damage to the exterior of the building. While checking out the extent of the damage, DCist chatted with the proprietors of WIDE…

The main intersection in Georgetown, at Wisconsin and M Streets NW, could soon be known for more than over-priced boutiques and terrible traffic. Council member Jack Evans (D-Ward 2) has introduced a bill that would name the intersection “Joe Pozell Square,” after D.C. reserve police officer Joseph Pozell, who directed traffic in the intersection for years. Pozell died in 2005 after being hit by an SUV in the very same intersection. Should the D.C. Council…

The District will have one fewer place for middle-aged letches to hit on dancing college girls drinking watered-down hurricanes, when Friday night fades into Saturday morning and Lulu’s Club Mardi Gras packs up its multicolored awnings for good. Lulu’s has long been a fixture at the changing corner of 22nd and M Streets NW. Longtime owner Ulysses “Blackie” Auger sold Lulu’s years ago, and when he passed away in November 2004, his family opted to…

If you don’t like sweets and sparkling wine, you’re a Communist. Well, you could be a diabetic-slash-recovering alcoholic, which is frankly the only understandable alternative explanation for not liking sweets and sparkling wine. For everyone else, Equinox’s Todd and Ellen Gray are putting on their fourth annual Sugar and Champagne Affair on Wednesday night (Jan. 25) at the Ritz-Carlton at 22nd and M Streets NW. Benefiting the Washington Humane Society’s Humane Law Enforcement Team (which,…

By DCist Food and Wine Writer Michael Mugmon. Like Hall & Oates, DCist is so close, yet so far away. On Tuesday afternoon, we stopped by our local Subway sandwich shop at 20th and M Streets NW for a footlong meatball sub. When we asked for the two Sub Club stamps we thought we’d earned (one stamp for each six odd inches of grunt), the cashier brusquely informed us that the venerable Sub Club program…