Written by Josh Pastor for Greenlight Washington Blitz!



JUMBO SLICE
2341 18th Street, NW
Washington, DC

In a city where consensus is as elusive as the ivory-billed woodpecker, there is one claim that rings true from the quiet whispers on the Metro to the deep folds of the blogosphere: nothing tops Jumbo Slice Pizza after last call.

When the bars close, Adams Morgan fills with a mass migration of footloose revelers who are unable to stay, and do not want to go home. Lucky for them there is Jumbo Slice -- a small sanctuary in the fray where nocturnal thrill-seekers can drag the night out a moment longer while consuming slices of pizza large enough to register on air traffic control's radar. No joke, folks. If a Jumbo Slice were hurled into the sky above Washington, it might just trigger the evacuation of the White House and Capitol Building. They are monsters. Big fellas. But for $4.50 a slice, a person can soak up some of the liquid abuse they have endured throughout the night, and maybe, just maybe, stave off a devilish hangover.

Jumbo Slice (located at 2341 18th Street, NW) is not your typical pizzeria. Throbbing trance beats blare from the entrance. Six disco balls throw scattered light into the crowd. Beautiful, inebriated people loiter in expensive clothes as though auditioning for the next season of Bravo's Project Runway. It is a raver's wild fantasy: music, lasers, beauty and... pizza.

Do not be fooled. There are several pizza vendors along Eighteenth Street that claim to have jumbo slices. But none have achieved the level of notoriety as the pizzeria on Eighteenth and Belmont.

"Size matters," says Mr. Khan, the owner of Jumbo Slice. He smiles wolfishly and nods toward the line that trails out the door. "They like them big; our slices are the biggest."

When the night manager, Alberto, came up with the idea of the laser lights and the loud music, Khan embraced the gimmick.

"Now we cater to partygoers. People come in a dancing mood, we let them continue."

This claim is well echoed by Khan's patrons, who sight both the size of the slices and the music as principle attractions.

"We only came because of the music," says Lena, a student from Virginia. "They take the bar scene and throw it right back in there." She tears a corner off her pizza, careful not to spill down the front of her dress. "Besides, it's fun to watch drunk people with pizza falling off their plate."

Much can be said for the flamboyant atmosphere and the throngs of partygoers who spill out into the street with their cheesy morsels. But how does the pizza taste?

"It’s almost like having sex," says Scott, a White House intern. "You wake up full, you wake up satisfied." Scott has another reason for coming tonight: several friends are visiting him from out of town, and he wants to divulge the secrets of D.C. life. "If you don’t actually eat at Jumbo Slice," he tells them, "you're not a native Washingtonian."

Whatever the case may be, if you find yourself stumbling down Eighteenth Street in Adams Morgan wondering how the universe will regard you the following morning, take my advice: a Jumbo Slice may just save your soul.

(Author's note: Alberto the night manager is known to jump the counter at a moment's notice to "dance with the ladies." If this occurs, don't worry -- it's all part of the show).