121 Raintree Way
Williamsburg, VA 23188
James City County
Phone: (757) 654-3326
Fax: unknownWebsite: no website on fileEmail: no email on fileHours: unknown
by edward k. on this place is ok. the good thing about this club is that its big and well ventilated and theres never a line for the bathroom which is good. the bars are rarely so packed u cant even lay a finger on the counter. they make the drinks pretty strong AND they're not that expensive so its all good. the ONE thing i have a problem with is the music. not saying its bad, but its just not my taste. all of the music was 90s gangster hip hop. i felt like i was in a lowrider. if others enjoy this music then thats cool but will it kill the dj to play some top 40? if thats not the style then i guess i'll just go somewhere else. the newest song i heard all night was ray j's tie me down.. of ALL the songs you play ray-j? overall i dont think i would come back unless they got a different DJ doing some more popular music
by Will Corbisiero on Ah, MJQ, I knew you when. Back in the olden days, a mere pup in the basement of the Ponce Hotel, you grew up and moved down the street, transitioning from a literal underground upstart to venerable old man of the club scene. I, too, have aged with you, calling you first "MJQ" then "the Q" and now "the MJQ" with nary a trace of irony in my voice. It's been a long 13 years, hasn't it? Oh, occasionally we still see each other. The faces in the crowd may have changed, but the people are still much the same as back when Bill (both Clinton and Campbell) was in office. They were emo and tat'ed back when it meant something, they'd tell you....well, if they had invented the word emo back then. But I see you've grown more inclusive since the days that the doorman would tell frat boys who wandered in from Buckhead you were a gay club. Now I see you happily taking money from all, image be damned. You've been around for so long now, you've earned that right. You're the most racially mixed club I've seen in town. That's a good thing. Your Wednesday night still packs them in as my aged, sell-out ghost dances your floors; my physical self slumbering away. (Memories of those Wednesday nights still make me grin and shudder.) Your drinks are still reasonably-priced even as everything else rises out of control. You're still kind of grimy, kind of scummy, but you wear it well. (I've had the unfortunately experience of seeing you with the lights on and I forgive you.) So stay who you are, MJQ. Continue to welcome the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe cigarette smoke. And on the rare days when both the mind and body are willing, I'll see you there, struggling on the dance floor, trying not to break a hip.
