It's Friday once again. Time for another 'tru-ish' tale about Colfax and the Mile High City. A new 30 MILES OF CRAZY! (#40)! This week: The Price of a Free Drink... or THE INTERESTING PEOPLE YOU MEET IN A DIVE BAR RESTROOM.
My friends and I have an interesting game... and when I say 'interesting', that is not at all what I actually mean. It's simply something to pass the time while waiting for the next round of drinks. We would sit in bars (generally around Colfax) and debate 'Is this a dive bar?' For most of the bars we normally visit, we break all bars into three categories: Dive, Neighborhood Bar, and Venue.
Now (for the uninformed), a dive bar is generally just an informal bar with cheap drinks, no frills, one that's been around for a while, and has a small sense of history. No Long Island Ice Teas. No Margaritas. Just a beer and a shot. I always found that a big clue on what doesn't make a dive bar is... calling itself a 'dive bar.' Other's can call it one, but when the establishment starts referring to itself as a dive, then it just isn't. That happens a lot around college campuses. A neighborhood bar (or pub) is just that. A few rungs up the ladder from a dive, more expensive drinks, and also less of a chance random violence breaking out around you. A venue is a venue. There's always a bar with cheap drinks, but a god awful racket generally starts up most nights around 9 pm.
As for 'sports bars'... yeah, we just avoid them entirely.
Which brings us to this week's comic. Yes, this is a true story related to me that happened in a bar on Capitol Hill. The original bar is gone, but there is another one in it's place. I won't tell you where, but buy me a drink sometime and it may slip.
