There’s not a whole lot I won’t do for a good friend. The return payment for putting up with my bullshit can run quite high, and have its rewards. Take Matt Driscoll, for instance. Driscoll has been asking me since October to join him at the Java Jive for our monthly Weekly Volcano-sponsored Lava Show event. I figured by not going my absence would be counted as a priceless gift. This would be a gift not only to Driscoll, but to the fine people of the Java Jive.
 
How boring of me. Screw my friendship with Matt Driscoll, this month I went. I went with the intent to embarrass, taunt, and make this poor boy hate me by the end of the night. It was going to be fun.
 
After finding Driscoll nursing his PBR in the Jive’s darkest corners, it was time for the games to begin. Farting loudly during song breaks, talking about vaginas, lifting up random guys’ shirts with a pool stick, making lewd gestures by way of my groin, and pointing at him as I introduced Jared Mees and the Grown Children on stage — it was all part of the plan. A very fine plan it was indeed. I think he now hates me.
 
I had a blast sipping my cheap draft beer, studying the intense graffiti located within every square inch of the joint, catching my pants on the booth seat’s huge rips, and smashing myself up against strange women waiting in line for the Jive’s one little teeny tiny awkward two-door bathroom. What the F is up with the second room of that bathroom anyway?
 
This place is by far one of the best and truest dives I’ve ever been in. See you next month, Java Jive! I’ll be on better behavior next time, I promise.

Bob’s Java Jive

2102 S. Tacoma Wayââ�¬Â¨, Tacoma, 253.475.9843
 
Food: Great late night grubbin’.
Service: Thank you for keeping my credit card safe.
Beer: PBR never tasted so good.
 
Bar Exam Dive Grade: A+