Since allegations of permitting underage drinking have surfaced against The Grille, things around Harvard’s infamous little pub haven’t been the same.

These days, Rusty the bouncer can actually watch whatever game is on, since there’s barely anyone to bounce. The lights aren’t as dim, the chairs haven’t been sat in, let alone thrown, by any drunkards in weeks. The place might as well be Widener’s reading room but with “Do The Hustle” playing on the speakers. Christmas tree yards are seeing more business right now.

Now the Grille very well may have let a few underage people in or maybe they didn’t. And maybe HUPD does consider the place the origin of a lot of students’ bad evenings. And maybe the place is a raunchy hole-in-the-wall that many believe deserves whatever it has coming to it. But it’s our raunchy hole in the wall and realistically, it’s the only hole in the wall we’ve got.

I’m not saying underage drinking should be permitted, nor am I confirming any accusations that it is occurring. I, even as a non-Grille patron, am saying that the Grille is too valuable as one of the few social venues on a campus where the social atmosphere is diminishing to just watch it leave or worse yet encourage its ousting.

Even if people do not particularly like the place, they should think of the interest of their fellow students. Some kind of meeting point for students needs to be preserved, since none are being created; especially when university administrators respond with “I didn’t say that,” to any questions about the Pudding becoming some sort of a student union.

And in the middle of the Grille’s ordeal, a news feature appeared on the front page of The Crimson digging up old licensing commission reports. The ugliness of the Grille’s past doesn’t change its social importance or its role as a student meeting place. We should remember that an essential part of the Grille’s background is also its niche in Harvard’s social life. Furthermore, students should stand by their bar until there isn’t one left.

Since the demise of the Bow and Arrow Pub, Grafton Street and Loker’s dwindling into a library with a juke box, there’s not much promise in the future of a Harvard social life outside the confines of your entryway and local final club (which are beginning to look like the Grille’s heir apparent).

Unless of course you want to hop into your Jetta and drive into Boston to party with people you don’t know—oh, but you probably don’t have a Jetta; or throw your own party to replace the Grille—oh, but parties are shut down at one; or just go to another Cambridge bar—oh, but, you know, maybe you should just study this Friday night.