It’s just a bar. You know the type – there’s nothing but some booze, maybe a small TV in the corner playing some sport you’ve never seen, and the bathrooms are definitely not someplace you go to relax while doing business. It is ‘Just a Bar’ in the truest sense, a place to go and drink booze with other (mostly) adults, often in silence, while the bartender clearly wishes they were someplace else.
I’m not at that place today, but in my mind it’s not far away, just around the corner from other legitimate businesses, shady and dusty, cold, funky A/C working overtime in the summer heat to keep the inhabitants cool. The ghost of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, decades of tarry sediment coating the walls (underneath the most recent coat of paint). And the booths have seen better days and thousands of ass cheeks, along with the stools. The newest furniture in the place is likely on the outside ‘patio’, where it has to be replaced every couple of years, along with a ratty canopy. Just a bar, but maybe a little more to the people who visit 2 or 3 times a week…
I’m at a taproom today, the endpoint of a brewery’s footprint here in New Mexico. Distribution regulations limit the number of places where you might find a breweries’ beer here, so any operation that wants to grow opens one or more taprooms around the larger Albuquerque area. The result is that most of the taprooms around here try to have their own character, some unique flair that differentiates itself from every other joint in town…this location has recently added pinball to the mix, replacing a rarely-used shuffleboard table.
Just a bar..?
Over that last decade or so, I’ve watched the gamification of bars and taprooms in multiple cities, from trendy Portland to permanently-behind Cedar Rapids. Albuquerque is somewhere in the middle, staying trendy with some throwback vibes at places that are still holding onto that ‘just a bar’ image. In Portland, many places added pinball and some other video game options several years ago. *POP* someone just won a free game of pinball as I write this…
The pressure is on your average drinking place to stand out, and so, bar games rose to popularity. Nobody asked for axe throwing and ping-pong bars, but they’ve sprung up all over the country as business owners try to wrangle ever-evolving drinkers through the door. Pickle-ball bar? Why not, just lease an older warehouse-style building and install a taprail. There’s one in West Des Moines, of all places, and it was super busy on a random Thursday afternoon for my visit. Families were assembled, adults were drinking liberally, the pickle balls were pickling. A decade ago I wouldn’t have said it could be a viable business but there I was, paddle in one hand and LOCAL pint in the other, waiting for our court to clear off. Does that count as a bar?
I mentioned Cedar Rapids, which once and again billed itself as Parlour City, a reference to the room people once used to play games in. I don’t know what games – one assumes cards – but that’s a history to cling to when you’re trying to market a new bar or brewery, and several have. Right here in Albuquerque, my favorite and closest taproom added 4 newer pinball tables in the places where a proud but rarely used shuffleboard table once stood. Boxing Bear, another notable local spot, has a whole room for pinball at one of it’s satellite locations. There were places all over Portland that had more than just booze as an attraction, to the point that it was hard to tell which was the attraction. Was it a bar or something else?
Speaking of Portland, the entire state of Oregon has an obsession with video poker and video slot machines, and they’re ubiquitous in Oregon drinking establishments. There’s often an entire section of the bar devoted to the machines, and regulars will come in to gamble and maybe drink. Once, during an extended winter storm and power outage on Mt. Hood, a patron walked in through the unlocked side door of the ‘roadhouse’ I worked at while I was out dealing with the frozen water that had crippled the area. I walked in from chipping ice on the sidewalk to find a mildly agitated older man, demanding that I turn the machines on, which I declined to do. I shooed him out with the shovel after he protested.
In that case, the bar had become much more than just a bar because of it’s access to gambling, a step beyond pinball and vintage arcade machines. Of course there were people who came for the food (so they told me) but for some people the distractions had become the main attraction. The mountain had limited entertainment options, and with the service economy the way it is, a lot of bars opt in for that extra revenue from gambling hoping it’ll juice alcohol sales in the process. As a patron on my days off, I received several free drinks after someone hit the poker machine for a decent amount, so I guess it paid off sometimes.
Other spots
I’d be negligent if I didn’t mention the dive bars that I frequented when I was younger and didn’t seem to need so many distractions while I was getting buzzed. I played a lot of pool and was once pretty good at darts, practicing at an assortment of ‘college’ bars in Iowa City that may have also featured 10 CENT WING NIGHT or something similar. The brewery we went to, Old Capital Brewing, had some pool tables and several bar games (in, say, 2003, we’re talking about Buck Hunter, the golf game, and a rotation of shitty old pinball machines).
My favorite dive bar of all time had one well-used pool table and…something else in the corner, and a trough in the men’s room. The main attraction there was cheap drinks and music upstairs, usually something heavy. A 151 and coke was the same cost as any other mixed drink and the bartenders did not care if you went blind as long as you tipped. Gabe’s was a hotspot for the kind of live music (techno) that wasn’t welcome at other music venues and needed that extra room to breathe that a grimy, dark dive bar provided. The cover to be imperfect, to get drunk for cheap, and stumble home with friends. Forget the big frat bars, Gabe’s forced you to make friends with new people. Most other nights, it was the last place you went to wrangle one more drink, and the ‘beer garden’ heaved with drunken laughter, people pouring out the back door at the end of a show.
Dave and that other guy?
I suppose the epitome of the not-bar-bar would be something like Dave and Buster’s, or one of the various copies that haunt regional mall complexes. For a premium you can go and play games and have dinner without having to deal with a bunch of screaming kids. I paid more than $50 for one of those meal deals recently, and I wasn’t really impressed with the selection of beer (nothing really local). The quality of the venue and the food was pretty decent, so there’s a balance being struck that makes a beer nerd like me itch when it’s time to select my next pint. At least the creamy pasta was filling, even if it was served with half a chicken nugget for the protein.
None of this is really to be confused with the ‘Destination Brewery’, which is a thing to behold if you get the chance. One such operation is Treehouse Brewing in Massachusetts that has taken their considerable popularity and worked it into several locations that would easily serve as a flagship brewery for most craft labels across the country. Aside from the impressive brewing facilities themselves, there are multiple places to sit and enjoy a pint, nature trails, room for music stages, and all manner of different things to look at while you sip their beer – which is rarely available on tap anywhere else. Most people would make the trip just to buy their packaged beer, and they made the destination something memorable because they could.
There are plenty of other destination breweries around the country – Toppling Goliath in Iowa, Stone in San Diego, Deschutes in Bend, etc. Places that reward a visit during the daytime with open seating and maybe a chat with the bartenders. But they’re not quite the same as your local trend spot that recently revamped and has lined the walls with modern arcade and pinball. They’re definitely not family friendly (sorry kids, but get lost). There’s almost definitely a coffee can outside the door filled with wet cigarette butts and a bartender that can easily be your best friend and worst enemy in the same night if you press your luck too far. The bouncer at the door just wants to see your legal-looking ID and an exact amount of cash dollars, and then hopefully never sees your face again.
These bar/music venues are the lifeblood of the homegrown scenes in any medium-sized city across the country, but unless you’re really into the local bands, you haven’t been to one since your college years (I’m making some assumptions of my readers here). There’s almost no other reason to go a dive bar like this in normal circumstances, but some people make good friends with the scruffy bartenders and take good advantage of the cheap rail booze and watery domestic beer (most American lagers fall well below 5% ABV, almost insulting the drinker…).
I’m sure I’m missing some, and I’ve forgotten my point entirely, which is a sure sign that I’ve spent more than enough time on this topic and at this particular bar. Let me know what kind of joint you like to drink at in the comments….