‘The Bachelor,’ ‘Vanderpump Rules,’ and ‘Drag Race’ watch parties can be a weekday boon for Philly bars

At 10 p.m. on a Monday, the bar was packed, and every table was taken.

Under the string-light canopy inside Urban Saloon, servers carried trays of espresso martinis and warm chocolate chip cookie skillets to customers whose eyes were glued to the seven TVs that lined the bar’s brick walls. Many in the crowd knotted their hands anxiously in front of their faces, in between shouts of joy and grimaces of disappointment.

At the Fairmount mainstay in the shadow of Eastern State Penitentiary, these fans weren’t watching the fourth quarter of a close Eagles game. They were on the edge of their seats on a weeknight for the penultimate episode of this season of The Bachelor, starring Collegeville native Joey Graziadei.

Watch party attendees told The Inquirer they are drawn to these events to feel a sense of a community, strengthened by shared reactions to contestant eliminations and dramatic cliff-hangers.

“It’s so much fun watching the show with other people,” said Pankhuri Walia, 27, of Fairmount.

From across the table, her friend, Emma Long, 29, of Francisville, added: “It’s a good excuse to go out on a Monday.”

Hosted by Graziadei’s college friend, Philly-based event planner Kody Pasqualichio, Urban Saloon’s weekly watch parties have become increasingly popular since the season premiere in late January. For the first couple episodes, about 50 people showed up, Pasqualichio said. Since videos of the parties began circulating online — one was retweeted by E! News earlier this month — they have drawn 150 people or more each week.

“You’re getting that atmosphere that you would at a sports game,” said Pasqualichio, owner of Secchio Experiences, “but it’s for them, people who watch the show.”

Behind the bar, assistant general manager Veronica Moyer estimates the events have boosted sales roughly 50% to 75% compared to a typical Monday this time of year.

“People are out eating and drinking like it’s a Thursday,” said Moyer, who described the crowd as similar to a Monday night Eagles game, but with fewer men. “It’s been great to work in a bar packed with women as a female bartender.”

Urban Saloon has tapped into consumers’ growing desire to do more than just eat, drink, talk, or watch a sporting event at bars and restaurants. With as many of half of U.S. adults regularly tuning into reality TV, and amid reports that fewer people are going out during the week, more businesses have added watch parties for popular shows, including Vanderpump Rules and RuPaul’s Drag Race, to their calendars. In recent years, pop-up reality-TV bars have opened in New York, Miami Beach, and Los Angeles.

Several Philadelphia-area restaurants and bars advertise watch parties, with some hosting ones of varying size each week and others doing so only for certain episodes, such as high-drama season finales.

Not all see an immediate boost as Urban Saloon has, but business owners say they still benefit from the increased midweek foot traffic and the community-building, something customers still seem to be craving more since the coronavirus pandemic.

In Graziadei’s hometown, Collegeville Italian Bakery and Pizzeria stayed open late for The Bachelor season premiere in January, hosting a $15 per person, BYOB buffet dinner. The 100 seats sold out in half an hour, said Steve Carcarey, who has co-owned the restaurant with his wife, Patricia, for three decades.

For the Carcareys, the party was more about honoring a Collegeville native and less about making a lot of extra money. Most people who came out to the premiere party — as well as prior events, including a Bachelor tapping at the restaurant in September — were already loyal customers, Steve Carcarey said.

“The bakery’s crazy every day,” he said. “I don’t think it’s anything different.”

At Cockatoo in Center City, the bar’s regular reality show watch parties don’t always lead to spikes in sales, owner Ram Krishnan said. The size of the crowds that come out to watch RuPaul’s Drag Race, Survivor, The Amazing Race, and Vanderpump Rules range widely, from about 10 to 400 people, he said, and some attendees don’t rack up large tabs.

“It’s not even about drinking as much as wanting to spend time with people,” Krishnan said. “This has become an easy, affordable way to do it.”

Some customers arrive with the mindset that the shows are often only one hour long, he said, so they “can go out and maybe get one drink.”

For Krishnan, there’s a trade-off, too: Some regulars get upset when they show up to the bar, expecting a relaxed atmosphere to unwind, and find a high-energy crowd yelling at the TVs.

But so far, he said, the watch parties have been worth it. Since the bar opened in 2021, the events have not only gotten more people in the door on show nights, Krishnan said, but they also make customers and passersby more likely to think of the bar as a happening spot the next time they go out.

“When people see a busy bar, they are more likely to come in,” said Krishnan, who has also owned Writer’s Block Rehab since 2017. “There is a psychological effect of seeing a busy space and thinking there is something fun going on.”

Moments before this week’s Bachelor episode — the heated “Women Tell All” before the Monday, March 25, finale — Pasqualichio got on the mic at Urban Saloon and welcomed attendees, new and returning, including two of this season’s eliminated contestants, Philly sisters Allison and Lauren Hollinger. From a platform in the restaurant’s front corner, the emcee then reminded the crowd of an important house rule.

“Every time Joey kisses, we drink,” Pasqualichio said. “So make sure you have a refill ready.”

A hush fell as the episode’s audio piped through the speakers. During commercials, Pasqualichio led games, such as Bachelor-themed bingo that featured fitting words like tears and gown, and played music, which ranged from the Beyoncé hit “Texas Hold ‘Em” to Vanessa Carlton’s belt-able ballad “A Thousand Miles.”

At a table in front of the large projection screen, Zai Thomas, 27, of Brewerytown, said she and her friends had arrived around 6 p.m. to secure their prime viewing spot, even though that night’s episode started at 9 p.m., an hour later than usual. The group has come to look forward to their Monday night outings to watch Graziadei, their former West Chester University classmate, search for his person.

“We haven’t missed an episode,” Thomas said. “We’ll post up … dinner, drinks, bingo.”

While regular attendees were united in the opinion that the communal-watching experience was unmatched, some admitted that part of the allure was practical, too.

“I don’t have cable,” said Alyssa Laufer, 27, of Fairmount.

Her friend, Bridie Anne MacCrory, 26, also of Fairmount, added, “I don’t want to have to watch it the next day,” when the episodes go up on streaming services.

As they watch episodes in real time with fellow fans, watch party attendees say they feel a connectedness that they can’t find sitting on their couch scrolling through social media reactions or chatting calmly with a couple friends during commercials.

“I’m really obsessed with community,” said Averi Candy, 30, of Spring Garden, who attends Drag Race and Vanderpump Rules watch parties. Those events are “the equivalent, to me, of when guys go out for an Eagles game. They want to be around guys cheering for the Eagles.”

Gabby Llopiz, 28, of Center City, said she typically catches up on Vanderpump Rules, Love Is Blind, and Real Housewives the day after they air on streaming services. Because her friends aren’t big fans of the shows, she often watches episodes alone on her laptop while drinking her morning coffee or cooking dinner.

When she attended Vanderpump Rules finale and reunion watch parties at Barstool Sansom Street and Evil Genius Beer Co. last spring, her viewing experiences were vastly different.

“I don’t go out to watch sporting events often, but it felt like we were watching the Super Bowl or something,” she said. “People were cheering, gasping, making all the commentary. It really felt like a sport. It was crazy.”

She brought a friend with her, but she also connected with fellow diehards during commercial breaks, when people from other tables would lean over to debrief on what had just happened. Llopiz said one woman she met at a watch party has since become a part of her friend group.

“It is so hard meeting people as adults, especially since COVID. I think people kind of forgot how to socialize in person,” Llopiz said. At the watch parties, “I was able to socialize and meet new people, and that hasn’t happened in such a long time.”