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The cult of fascination with the 18th Street Lounge escapes me (“Hipper Than Thou,” 6/20). On the one occasion I attempted to go there, our entire group of about 10 people (mostly female) was turned away because I (a male) was wearing shorts (on a hot D.C. summer night—Lord forbid!). As we walked away, I noticed at least four or five shorts-clad women being cheerfully admitted.

How this arbitrary snobbery manages to sustain itself is baffling. As for me, I’m as disinterested in going to the Lounge again as I am in waiting an hour in an artificially created line to get into a near-empty dance club. I’ll reserve my hard-earned money for places that don’t create an “atmosphere” by treating potential customers like dirt.

Woodley Park

via the Internet