These days, cultural discourse often laments the lack of a so-called third space — an informal social environment that is neither home nor work. Perhaps that helps explain the outcry against the recent $5 nighttime cover charge instituted at The Tombs, a Georgetown restaurant so integral to the university’s fabric that Karen McCooey, wife of Tombs founder Richard McCooey, said, “There will never be another Tombs anywhere.”
Until last week, we would have readily agreed with that statement. It goes without saying that Tombs is more than a run-of-the-mill college bar: It doesn’t welcome underage drinkers with fake IDs or employ LineLeap reps to hawk pay-to-skip passes. The places that do — and there have been many in Georgetown over the years — are the kind that come and go.
Tombs, however, stakes its claim on being a Georgetown institution: It’s the place you bring your parents, your friends and maybe even one day your future children. In our opinion, the recent cover charge instituted at Tombs is incompatible with this mission. Community members — current students, graduates and neighborhood patrons — must speak out against this tasteless defiance of sixty years of history and tradition.
The senior class mobilized overnight in response to the cover charge, instituted Sept. 4, with well-received calls for a boycott spreading via an Instagram account with more than 500 followers and a petition with over 600 signatures, including from disappointed graduates. Over the weekend, we were heartened to see fellow Hoyas act on what we view as the central tension of this issue: Tombs’ desire to remain a Georgetown institution while taking unfair advantage of its role in the university community.
We know what you’re thinking: “Can’t you just pay $5 and move on?” While this nominal cover charge might seem inconsequential for many — especially given that 51% of Georgetown students hail from the top 5% of wealth in the United States — it’s about the principle of the matter. The cover fee speaks to a stark departure from Tombs’ stated values of accessibility, inclusion and community. In short, the cost-free camaraderie that Tombs claims to offer Hoyas stands in direct opposition to an unbecoming, and ultimately insulting, “entrance fee.”
Since its founding in 1789, Georgetown has learned, grown and evolved. A central part of that mission has been an arc toward inclusivity — social, cultural and economic. We feel that Tombs has earned a spot in this journey, an assertion supported by the bar’s cultural imprint around campus: a Tombs baseball cap is nearly interchangeable with a Georgetown shirt, while morning-after Tombs hand stamps are temporary marks of lifelong memories.
That’s why we compel Tombs patrons to boycott the bar and restaurant until its management lifts this newly-instated barrier to nighttime entry. To protect the Tombs that generations of Hoyas and Washingtonians have come to love, we must be willing to fight for The Tombs’ longstanding vision of accessibility for all.
Erin Claire (MSB ’12), general manager at Tombs (and a Hoya herself), said rising costs and safety concerns left Tombs with two options: add a cover charge, or cut nighttime operations like security, dancing and a DJ. Indeed, we sympathize with Tombs: the restaurant business is hard — as of July 2025, two DC restaurants were shuttering each week. At the same time, its management did not candidly convey the thought process behind their decision (which we’re willing to bet most Hoyas would find understandable, even reasonable).
Perhaps students’ indignation at the cover charge comes, in part, from the fact that we were not trusted with this transparency, and were instead expected to open our wallets without question. In this sense, the charge stings as more of a money grab than a cost-effective business decision. We are also familiar with the seemingly endless line that forms outside The Tombs on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. It would be unwise for The Tombs to lose the throngs of students clamoring to order pitchers of Tombs Ale each weekend because the unexplained levying of a cover peeves them.
Tombs, if you’re reading this, we’re writing because we care. Each of us eagerly counted down the days until we could finally descend into your dimly-lit basement dance floor at midnight on our 21st birthdays. We’ve gazed in admiration at your walls engraved with legions of Georgetown graduates in the famed “99 Days Club,” and have vowed that our own names will be added in gold under “Class of 2026” one day. We sincerely wish that every Hoya — present and future — will regard you with the same reverence and fondness that we do.
If Tombs’ management believes risking their cult-like following, institutionalized loyalty and iconic status is worth $5, their establishment could be almost as empty as its name suggests.
Catherine Alaimo and Lauren Doherty are seniors in the College of Arts and Sciences. Jack Willis is a senior in the School of Foreign Service.