I made a new best friend at Valley Pub on Pacific Highway, and she goes by “Roxy.” The minute I walked into Valley Pub Roxy introduced herself, called me cute, and we took off as friends from there. The manager (I think her name was Vaughn) checked my ID while complimenting me the whole while. This was eerily fantastic, as I had never before walked into a true dive where the only two women in the house were so unbelievably warm and inviting.



It was hot outside, but the doors were propped open and my cold Bud Light draft cooled these insides just the way I like it. Pull tabs, handwritten signs, crappy (duct taped) carpet, wood paneling, mass beer signage, cheap furniture, and a huge-ass jukebox set every neighborhood drunkard up for daytime drinking success at the Valley Pub.



My new best friends filled me in on all the latest neighborhood dive bar gossip. I was told of local bums and prostitutes, the city completing a sting on said prostitutes (thus cleaning up the area), dive bar Western R being temporarily closed for “remodeling” and the speculation as to why they were really closed, the death of a former bar patron, a potluck celebration of his life, how Roxy wasn’t a prostitute because she “can’t even give the shit away,” and how incredibly sweet the old manager was — she was everyone’s best friend. This information came from these people completely voluntarily. They had no idea I strung words for the Weekly Volcano. They were purely nice people.



I hated to leave. But I had to. There’s nothing worse than being hungover before dinner. I said my tearful goodbyes and promised to be back. Hey “Dive Bar” group of Tacoma — you should hit this place up. I’d definitely be down for another beer at the Valley Pub.

Valley Pub

1206 Puyallup Ave., Tacoma, 253.572.8321

Food: $1.00 hot dogs

Service: They’re good people

Beer: Four major domestics on tap

Bonus Points: Drink specials every time the Seahawks score on their big screen TV



Bar exam Dive Bar Grade: A+