In Search Of:
The Ultimate Dive Bar Definition
By Ike Hill

So you think you know what a Dive bar is. I'm sure our readers do, but most people simply assume that a Dive bar is just that nasty dark bar you drive by and never think of entering. And those people are right. They should never enter our sacred dive bars. If the idea of going inside a dank dark watering hole is terrifying to you, STAY OUT! You are not welcome inside, and you will have a terrible time.

Because as scary as you think we are, we are far more frightened of you and your suburban ways.

These little drunken treasures are only for the strong of liver, the lushes of liquor, and the true drinkers of our time. The Dive bar serves a purpose greater then just being an establishment for refreshments. They are there to help regular drinkers escape away from the harsh reality of the sober world. Most people go to a bar to have a drink and unwind. But what if you are naturally unwound? What if beer is your morning vitamin? Where can you go to relax and get away from it all? A dive bar, that's where. But how do you really tell a bar from a Dive bar? That's what we're here to do right now.

Far More Than Filth
To the uneducated, a Dive bar is simply defined as a filthy little rat hole full of drunks. And most of the time, that's true, but it's far more than filth that defines a Dive bar. There are, in fact, clean well maintained Dive bars. By clean I mean the trash is mostly off the floor, and by maintained I mean you have less than a 50% chance of getting a splinter in your ass while relaxing. A certain amount of filth is necessary, but there are differences between Dive bars and filthy little rat holes full of drunks. The rat holes are just dirty; they do not have the years of muck and crap accumulated like a good Dive bar. The filth from a Dive bar is built with blood, sweat and bile from years of liver abuse. Any place can simply be nasty, but it takes years of controlled offensiveness to achieve Divedom.

A Well-trained Bartender
Dive bar bartenders need to fit in like the furniture surrounding them. It is important that they don't stand out, it is important that they are ever so slightly broken down, and most of all that they will likely kill you if they are treated poorly. There is nothing worse than having to break in a new bartender. It takes time to bond and eventually learn how to manipulate the bearer of good booze. The mixologist of a dive bar will never do fancy bottle tricks for you. They will never be caught putting little umbrellas in your drink, hell you'll be lucky to get a garnish at all. And if you order things like "sex on the beach," prepare to die. But they will be glad to bring you a ice cold draft, pour you a shot, and if you're really liked, they'll forget to charge you for the shot.

Yard Beers
Don't go expecting to get a Zima. In fact, you should expect a severe beating just for thinking of ordering that damned foul drink. A draft of PBR or a can of Schlitz should be the desired thirst quencher. Want a martini? I hope bottom-shelf booze that far down gets you excited. There shouldn't be any damn Grey Goose or Stoli here! The drinking preferences are reserved for low cost high octane beverages only.

Regulars That Are Irregular
Looking to pick up chicks? Hey if toothless with leather-like dried skin is what you are into. . . go crazy! Don't get the picture wrong, there will always be a few exotic (tattoos and piercing) men and women about. Maybe even a really drunk college kid who strayed away from the normal comfort zone of roofie-infested drinks at the dance club. But for the most part we are talking rough characters: people who strive to one day end up recorded in history books as World Class Drinkers.

Conclusion
By now you either get it, or you don't. If you are still a little cloudy on the issue of Dive bars, you should read this again. In fact keep reading it over and over again. But for those of you who know exactly what's going on, well, we'll see you at the Beach later!

- www.KCDrinker.com - 2005 ©

Eisenhower ‘Ike’ Hill is a high altitude native of Colorado Springs, CO. After extensive blackouts, he now runs guns to fuel the Missouri Border Wars near Kansas City, MO.  He is fully credited for the theory of, "Complete a sentence, and take a shot of whiskey." In his spare time, which is a lot, he enjoys dressing as an (Irish) Catholic priest and hearing the confessions of hot chicks.