Bar diving

I'll admit it, I like dive bars. Places that are just slightly above that level of seediness where you would actually feel unsafe or extremely uncomfortable. Why do I like these places? I don't know, but it's probably the people. Or, more likely, the lack of a certain other type of people. When I'm drinking, I don't like being around people whose shoes cost more than my entire wardrobe (not just my clothes that day, but everything I own). I also like to not spend $10 per drink.

"How to start your own dive bar" is somewhat sarcastic about the concept of dive bars, but gets a lot of things right. First, the author, Lessley Anderson, tries to define what a dive bar is:

Some people would insist that a dive bar must have been around at least 30 years yet still be undiscovered by anybody with a liberal arts degree or a full set of teeth, while others would call the grungy punk rock bar with its own Facebook page a dive. Let’s simply define it as a bar that’s casual, shockingly cheap, not very clean, and imbued with a sharp edge of nihilism that perfectly suits the mood of these rocky times.

Among the things she gets right about how a dive should operate: "Open before 8am," "Offer only a few kinds of cheap beer," and my favorite, "Establish quirky traditions."

The article also offers a bar-naming device featuring a "Too drunk to type, name it for me" button.

If it wasn't 9 in the morning (actually, if I wasn't about to start working) I would throw a BL back for dive bars everywhere. I guess I'll wait until I'm actually in one tomorrow.