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Dive Bar or Shithole?

I am once again in search of a proper dive bar. This is becoming a lot harder than it should be. One would think that with our economy as crappy as it is, dive bars would be doing great business. If they are, no one knows about it! Which could be the secret to their success.

Allow me to take a minute and give my definition of a dive bar. It's not the same as a shit hole. A dive bar was probably once a nice place. Years and years of drinking has gone on in there. Time has taken it's toll. The regulars are old. The place is dimly lit. The booze is cheap. There should be a long, dark (preferably) oak bar with, if possible, a hand-carved (oak) back bar. The bar stools should be well worn. There should be booths. Leather or Naugahyde. A patterned tin ceiling is a nice touch but not a must. Same with cool floor tiling.

 The bartender should be old and cranky...not necessarily mean but perhaps nursing some lingering ailment...like lumbago. Nothing life threatening! The barkeep should probably be wary of a new customer the first few times they come in. A gruff "Whaddya have?" should be his/her siren song. He/she should have vast knowledge of drinks like Manhattans, Rob Roys, Zombies, Harvey Wallbangers, etc...but be more accustomed to shots & beers and/or plain ol' highballs.

Music...if any...should fit the aging clientele and the former grace of the establishment. Sinatra, Dean Martin, The Ink Spots, Dinah Washington. If nothing that classy, maybe some old school country...Hank Sr., Merle Haggard, JohnnyFuckingCash! Rock & roll music..if any at all, should be of a period no later than, say, The Shirelles. The music should be kept low enough that patrons don't have to shout. Not that they're saying much....aside from discussing the weather or the ball game.

Neon should be lit and buzzing...but kept to a minimum. A Schmidt's beer sign maybe. Perhaps the Prince of Pilsner himself hoisting a glass in your direction. It shouldn't be cute or kitschy. Just more reminders that time has passed by.

There should be plenty of ashtrays. A real dive bar should be a bit smokey. If you don't like that...don't go there. A dive bar should be reminiscent of years gone by...not the latest fad.

A true dive bar should look the same day after day, year after year, drink after drink...shadows of customers drinking to celebrate or to forget or to sometimes try to remember.

A shit hole is completely different. I'm not saying that one is better than the other...just that shit holes are more common.

A shit hole was probably never particularly nice. It's probably always just been a bar. Nothing fancy. Shots and beers. Maybe the odd 7&7, Long Island Iced Tea, or vodka cranberry...but mostly shots & beers.

The decor can be anything from plain to garish. Paneling with Christmas lights (all year) comes to mind. There should be a steady flow of customers. Not necessarily packed in like sardines but busy enough to keep the place in business.

A shit hole is often louder than it needs to be. Often, a jukebox...lately those irritating internet things...playing music that should probably be outlawed. Loud, brash, repetitive noise. Anything to keep `em drinking and under the illusion of having a good time. A shit hole will probably have karaoke at least once a week. Maybe a band on the weekend...playing more loud, brash, repetitive cover songs that the locals have been clamoring for for decades.

A shit hole will have regulars of all ages...but tends to draw in the young, novice drinker. It's the place the novice has heard about...the place will have a legacy attached to it. "Why, that's where so & so met his 4th wife..." or "If ya can't get laid there ya might as well quit trying...".

Each has it's place in our society. I often hang out at shit holes. Most of us do. But...I'm at a point in life where I need the occasional solace of a good dive bar. Maybe something with an Irish name. O'Herlihy's or something like it. A place where a man (or woman) can drink in peace. A place where one can reflect on life over a cold libation. A place where, if only for a few hours, one can disappear in time.

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