Escape From Douchebaggery, Part 23: The Huntridge Tavern

There are many types of Las Vegas bars, but few of them are cheap. The vast majority of the watering holes in Las Vegas are located in the Casinos (both on and off The Strip) and have little to no character and pretty high drink prices. A few of the downscale casino bars, like the ones in Bill's Gambling Hall, are cheap but not really places designed for hanging out (they want to get you gambling, obviously). Then there's the new wave of high-class cocktail lounges, Wine Bars, and Craft Brew spots... but once again, they're best enjoyed with some cash in your pocket. There are the awesome hipster bars popping up Downtown, where you can find interesting artsy types that resemble cool spots in Silver Lake, San Francisco, or Brooklyn... and where you'll paying the same prices on booze as you'd pay in in Silver Lake, San Francisco, or Brooklyn (you gotta keep things authentic, after all). The town is also filled with faux-dive bars that are actually themed to resemble down-home divey joints but sell their booze at decidedly not divey price points.

The Huntridge Tavern, my friends, is another story entirely. It's the ultimate Las Vegas dive bar, a 50 year old, 24/7 Downtown adjacent dive that's the perfect watering hole for the broke and thirsty. The Griffin, with its eclectic jukebox, Craft Brews on tap, and castle-like design is the bar we want. But in these post-recession times, The Huntridge is the bar we need.

A smoky, sticky hole in the wall with some of the cheapest booze prices you'll find... well, anywhere (beers starting at $1.50, premium beers for $3!), The Huntrdige is the best place in Las Vegas to get plastered for next to nothing. The crowd is eclectic, with Vegas locals, bikers, old timer alcoholics, hipsters, and Rock-a-Billy enthusiasts enjoying blindingly strong cocktails on the cheap as one.

The Huntridge is one of the best places to wind down after a night of epic party times. I love grabbing a booth with some friends, blasting crowd pleasing tunes from their decent Jukebox, chatting with colorful locals, people watching, and enjoying the brisk (yet not rude) interactions with the busy servers who never leave you with an empty drink for long. The place has a bit of an edge and an attitude, as you'd expect from a more local's friendly drinking establishment. As such, it's not the kind of spot where you'll run in to a lot of tourists, which is one of the great things about the place.

Speaking of the hipsters who make up some of the clientele at the bar, I have to address something that bothered me while I was researching this post. I don't do footnotes or sidebars, and this paragraph would certainly qualify for one if I did, but bare with me. While looking up what other people had to say about The Huntridge, I came across a specific Yelp Review that ticked me off. Obviously, getting annoyed at Yelpers is a fool's errand that could lead you down a never-ending black hold of frustration, but this review irked me as it blasted the "hipsters" drinking at the bar. The Yelper complained that the place had been taken over by "bicycle-riding, big black-plastic-framed-glasses-wearing Portlond Ore wannabes" with "skinny jeans and ironic t-shirts" who were "swilling hipster ambrosia, a/k/a Pabst Blue Ribbon." She then goes on casually drop a Smiths quote and says that she was "grumbling all of this into a totally UN-pretentious Campari and soda. But goddamnit-- I'M supposed to be the only ironic one in these places!" So we have a classic case of a hipster calling out other hipsters for their horribly stereotypically hipster behavior. Or something. First of all, hipsters don't really drink PBR anymore... Crafts are where it's at these days. And what's the point of pulling out the most obvious hipster cliches and complaining that you're not welcome at a Dive Bar whose very existence is based on a diverse group of people drinking their for cheap? And many hipsters are poor (while yes many are trust fund babies who went to art school). I just don't get being an indie counter-culture type and attacking other so-called "hipsters." I named myself one in my blog, but I regret it. The term has become tiresome and meaningless. And this girl quoted The Smiths! She's mad that she's not the only hipster there? She's basically being a huge hipster by saying the influx of hipsters at the bar no matter makes it authentic. It's what I call the "hipster Catch 22." Really, the thing that people get annoyed about with hipsters is their exclusivity and insecure insistence on being the most unique snowflake who discovered and "made" whatever place they go to. And then they get mad when other people there are like them? It's pure nonsense. Just enjoy your cheap drinks with the fun and diverse crowd who drinks there every night! Okay, rant over. I didn't mean to call you out, Yelp User Sarah Jane W. Next time I'm in Vegas we should talk about The Smiths and make out.

Getting back on point,  The Huntridge is not the type of place that will place on lists for the coolest or most chic bars in Las Vegas. You'll never catch a surprise set from a hot DJ or run into cool celebrities dropping for a drink. You won't take photos of the decor or be floored by Cocktails made with seasonal fruits by bartenders who prefer to call themselves mixologists. But you will get drunk for cheap with interesting people in a smoky and dingy hole in the wall with Bruce Springsteen and Rolling Stone tunes blasting from the jukebox.  Do you need anything more than that in these continually rough economic times?

Escape from Douchebaggery, Part 21: Dino's Lounge

I have made it no secret to readers of this blog that I'm an avid fan of the classic, seedier version of Las Vegas that's been almost completely replaced by slick corporate casinos that invite you to misbehave... in a controlled environment. The people behind the famous "What Happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" campaign are selling the town as a place where you can have an out of control weekend in which misbehavior will run so rampant you'll have to swear your friends to secrecy for fear that your life will be ruined if people back in the real world found out just how much fun you had. But the key is that it's an image that they're selling... at this point, most Las Vegas experiences are completely controlled, and the idea that the city is a Disneyland for adults is very apt... you are indulging in a constructed fantasy of illicit behavior that helps normals blow off some steam after working an endless succession of 40 hour weeks. But in today's Sin City, there is very little actual Sin.

That wasn't always true. Back in the day, the mob ran Las Vegas and it was a very different town, a true Wild West of loose morals. I'm not actually saying that times were better when getting caught counting cards meant you'd be driven out to the desert and forced to dig your own grave before you took two slugs to the back of the skull from a hulking henchman in a cheap suit named Tony or Joey or Frankie instead of simply being banned from the casino floor, but things were at least a little less slick and homogenized.

Dino's Lounge, which has been serving hard drinks for low prices since 1962, is a throwback to the city's seedier past. It's not a place where you're in any danger of getting whacked (you're more likely to run into a hipster belting out a Neil Diamond or Bruce Springsteen tune on the karaoke machine than a character from The Sopranos), but the walls are soaked with classic Las Vegas history.

Dino's was originally known as Ringside Liquors and owned by notorious Las Vegas mobster Eddie Trascher, where many shady deals were hashed out over glasses of the hard stuff. Trascher sold the bar to Rinaldo Dean Bartolomuci in 1962, when it was rechristened after the new owner's nickname. "Dino" ran the local's favorite bar until he passed away, but it remained in the family through generations. Now Dino's granddaughters run the place, which is more popular than ever even though (or maybe precisely because) it's barely changed in the half century it's been in operation.

There is nothing modern or hip about Dino's, and that's a major part of the appeal. The roomy dive bar still has the same smokey and booze soaked charm that's been its specialty since the 60's, offering visitors the opportunity to shoot some pool, see some great live music, play some beer pong, choose some tunes from their excellent jukebox, and embarrass by warbling some drunken versions of hit songs in front of a forgiving and encouraging crowd during their Karaoke nights on Thursdays- Saturdays.

The greatest thing about Dino's (other than their ridiculously cheap yet ridiculously strong cocktails) is the incredibly eclectic crowd. Locals, old timers, colorful tattooed types, and hipsters looking for something a little different will find a welcome home at Dino's. While some many of the cool, artsy types, both locals and visitors, can often be seen in Dino's, the vibe never approaches pretentious or exclusive.

This is a place for people who are serious about their drinking (their website even has a "drunk of the month" program where the bartenders elect a regular for keeping them in business through their heroic consumption of alcoholic beverages; winners are awarded perks that include their own exclusive parking spot for the month, which is most likely irresponsible but most definitely awesome), which means you'll get to hear a lot of great stories from the characters who frequent the bar along with the great music playing on the jukebox (or awful renditions of great music on the weekend Karaoke nights).

Dino's has a Las Vegas Boulevard address, but it's far North of where "The Strip" proper ends, and it's closer to the funkier environs of Downtown, where classic landmarks aren't torn down as readily in the name of "progress" (and sometimes in the name of creating gaping holes sitting idly and pointlessly and serving as nothing more than giant gaping metaphors representing the American economy of the last half-decade).

Dino's bills itself as "the last neighborhood bar in Las Vegas," and that's not just hype... like many of the patrons who frequent it, the old school saloon is a grizzled survivor with a tawdry past that refuses to change with the times and can hold its liquor as it tells amazing war stories about the Sin City's seedy good ol' days. Plus, it's a place where you can get onstage and butcher Cracklin' Rosie, if you're feeling brave (or drunk) enough in front of a crowd of people who won't judge you. What's not to love?