Dive Bars

4th Ave Ale House & Eatery

210 Fourth Ave., Olympia, 360.786.1444
4th Ave Ale House & Eatery was something I had only seen at night, and in an extremely crowded situation. To belly up to the 4th Avenue bar during the light of day was nothing short of a great treat. The 4th Ave has a fantastic jukebox, a huge room of pool tables, a predictable selection of domestic-micros on tap, sandwiches, pull tabs, and of course - the infamous "back room." This room is my favorite. A full stage with plenty of tables suited for any local band to host the show of all shows. This just about covers all my bases, and makes the 4th Avenue Tavern by far my favorite dive in Olympia. Joe, The 4th Ave's 12-year veteran bartender, chatted us up, asked questions about our day, talked Oly talk with us, and made sure our beers were as delicious as we expected them to be. We studied the dusty and aged paraphernalia taped to the back wall while a shower-challenged man ate his sandwich next to us. He politely informed us that at the end of the bar sat the owner of the building and the owner of the tavern. We felt as though we were in the presence of Oly-celebrities, yet we were comfortable as though we were right at home.

2121 Tavern

2121 112th St. E., Tacoma, 253.536.2100
YES, this place is a dive. NO, it is not a scary one. The servers are young, attractive females who seem to have all their teeth. The demographic is that of either a dirty manual laborer wearing a safety orange sweatshirt, or a senior citizen. Pull tabs, carpeting, pool tables, darts, mass neon beer signage, and more than 11 televisions had me thinking this place is rockin' come football Sundays. By the look of the menu, I'm pretty sure I'm dead-on correct with that assumption. Where else can you find an egg breakfast for less than $4? Don't say Shari's or I'll hurt you. I'm talking about a good, homemade breakfast. For years I've heard Mr. DeRosa rave about the chicken at 2121 Tavern in the Midland area (off 112th and Portland Avenue). Since fried chicken has never been my first choice when dining out, I never gave it much thought. But when I drove up to finally meet some friends out for a few 2121 Tavern drinks I was immediately impressed by the disheveled exterior and patchwork parking lot.

Acme Grub Cage

1310 Tacoma Ave. S., Tacoma, 253.272.1892
A couple years ago The Acme Grub Cage was purchased by an eager bartender and his customer. Together they are changing the way Tacoma views this once dilapidated dive bar. New wooden cabinets are stained and ready for the multitude of liquor bottles that will be available once their liquor license is obtained. Carpeting gone, floors polished, and bathrooms painted, I can easily label this place a very cool dive. Fingers are crossed for not only the liquor license, but the food permit that will allow Acme guests to chow on some fine eats. And by "fine eats" I'm talking about frozen Swanson dinners and Costco pizza. Hell yeah, that right there is some good drunk grubbin'.There's no shortage of domestics in cans or bottles, but the tap selection is what I was definitely happy about. A rare find of Acme IPA out of San Francisco beckoned me to have the bartender pour me a tall one. This place is ready to shake the old reputation, and has shed a new light on what being a cool dive is all about. Cleaned up and uncluttered, The Acme prefers you drop "Grub Cage" from the title and stop in to chill with friends. I can promise you won't be disappointed.

All Seasons Sports Tavern

12232 Pacific Ave., Parkland, 253.531.1022
Bad carpeting, excessive beer signage, and simply being located in Parkland made me want to categorize this place as a dive bar. But the warm feeling of Christmas parties, potlucks, and adopting a local family for Christmas made me re-think my initial dive suspicions. Twenty-five competitive, trophy-winning dart teams in the house didn't hurt either. The walls were lined with shiny awards of recognition. By the time my stay was over at All Seasons, I felt like part of the family. Tom, the bartender at All Seasons Sports Tavern in Parkland, works the bar every day, all day. He does this because he's the owner and "It's too expensive to have employees," he says. I don't think he has a problem with the long hours seeing as how he's been doing it for 10 years. Now that's commitment, if you ask me. Being a cheap ass (as Tom can clearly relate) I quickly noticed the sign reading "$1 Miller Chill" and ordered a tall cool one. Tom had no problem filling me in on why they are only one dollar - because they taste like dirty ass. Well, he didn't use those words exactly. But it sure sounds a whole lot worse than using the plain ol' word "yucky," right? And you know what? Miller Chill does in fact taste like dirty ass. Don't ask me how I know this.

Beach Tavern

8612 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.564.9984
Massive beer signage yet fresh atmosphere gave this joint the perfect clean dive-bar feel. The last time I was at The Beach Tavern on Titlow Beach, let's be brutally honest, I was in a drunken stupor and wasted as all hell. This time The Beach Tavern was all new to me. Somewhat recently reconfigured for an outstanding alcohol collection, the bar is well kept and fully padded. Not only is the bar fully and comfortably padded, but the barstools are just the perfect width for some pleasant ass time. But wait! The padding doesn't stop at just the bar area. The walls are padded, the booths are padded, and the posts running down the aisles are padded. A fellow barfly quickly announced that at The Beach everyone was pure, unadulterated crazy - hence the padded walls. Alongside the bar-top beer nuts, beef jerky, and cashews for sale comes a special bottled sauce that intrigued me to no end. It was simply called, "The Sauce Enhancer." What the hell? I had to try it. After dousing some of this special sauce into my Bloody Mary I conclude that yes, this locally made, not found in stores "Sauce Enhancer" does in fact enhance your sauce. Go figure. Only at The Beach Tavern have I found this economy-friendly (free) "sauce enhancing" option, and for that I love The Beach Tavern. Well, that and everything about the place is pretty damn cool.

Bob's Java Jive

2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843
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.

Brass Lantern

4034 Mckinley Ave., Tacoma, 253.473.8543
Who's your daddy? Chuck's my new daddy. I bet my new daddy is better than your daddy. He gives me beer. Chuck welcomed me to his McKinley Hill bar, the Brass Lantern, and didn't even flinch. I bellied up, ordered my beer, and proceeded to witness Chuck joke around with everyone around me, taking hilarious insults to the gut like a pro. I literally laughed out loud a few times. And no, it wasn't because I was getting buzzed. The place was a dive, yes, but it was a clean and friendly dive that I didn't want to leave. It was like I was sitting in a friend's kitchen, and as a matter of fact I WAS sitting in their kitchen, literally. Right in front of me were the three microwaves, a refrigerator, and a coffee pot in an area knows as " the kitchen." Chuck's a smart guy, I mean, why create a menu when you can just cut out the box covers all the frozen foods came in and tape them to the wall? I was intrigued by the amount ‘70s era home refrigerators in the Brass Lantern. Behind me was one, and two more in front of me. I asked my new daddy Chuck what the hell he had in the random fridge in the middle of his barroom floor. His answer was, "It's empty." Then why did he have it in the first place? He told me he had bought it from a friend, so why not have it there? And they say women shoppers are bad.

Bud's Saloon and Steakhouse

2702 Milton Way, Milton, 253.952.7665
Bartender Trish was one of the nicest and most personable bartenders I've ever seen in action. She knew everyone in there by name (I think half of them were Bud's employees anyway), had a clever smile the entire time, and carried on multiple friendly conversations as if she were Sybil herself. Bad carpeting, pull-tabs, steak specials (Blue Moon Mondays!) and plenty of beer signage once again made the aesthetics that of a true dive bar. About four domestics sat cold on tap along with four micro-domestics. My cool Bud Light was nice and tasty for sure. Bud's is huge, and hosts a DJ every Friday and Saturday night. One of the employees let me know that Saturday was more on the "country white" side, while Friday's were "more on the dark side." I appreciated his honesty, and the grand tour he gave me.

Buffino's Golden West Restaurant and Lounge

5228 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.471.9892
All the dive bar attributes were alive and well inside Golden West Restaurant and Lounge on South Tacoma Way. Bad carpeting, funky smells, low lights, beer signage, pull tabs, dart machines, and only domestics on tap made this bar a shoe-in. We opted to play it safe when ordering food from Golden West, and stuck with items that even Marilyn Manson couldn't fuck up. Like grilled cheese and a club sandwich. Sounds like an easy order, right? Not necessarily. Neesie the bartender was on top of her health code game as she witnessed the cook drop the toast on the kitchen floor that was to be my club sandwich's middle layer, and caught him trying to use it anyway. Say what? That's right; she caught him trying to give me dirty toast. With all her bartending superpowers she had fought off a cook's evil wrongdoings and protected me from deadly kitchen floor dirt. Neesie will forever more be my hero. The best part is she actually came over and told me. Well, she had to have a reason why there was no middle layer to my club sandwich. You know, 'cause I question that shit. Art, whom I suppose is the owner of Golden West, was making his rounds to all his intoxicated daytime regulars. The fact that we were new to the joint had no bearing on whether or not we were on his map of patrons to stop and chat with. Small talk was made, drinks were had, and (hopefully) dirt-free sandwiches were eaten.

Bumpy's Tavern

116 E. Main Ave., Puyallup, 253.841.2931]
It's 3 p.m. on a Friday and Bumpy's is a-bumpin' all right. It's a mixture of white collar, blue collar, and no-collar men and women. They're coming in by the busloads, as if they had been waiting for three o'clock all day. What's crazy about Bumpy's is within this small space lies the actual kitchen (a 6-foot by 6-foot box), two dart machines (huge, floor standing models), a 10-foot by 10-foot dance floor (that the dart machines are on), a fully loaded wall of pull tabs, and some bartenders that could kick my ass with a smile on their faces.Perched on a leather barstool, I enjoyed my cold beer out of an old-school heavy honeycomb mug, counted the various shades of off-white within the large ceiling tiles, and noticed that every light fixture had a different vintage 1970s cover. (All adorned with crafty domestic beer logos, of course.) One particular light had a crack in it, but that didn't stop Bumpy's from repairing it with a large piece of scotch tape. That right there is a classic dive bar repair - nice move Bumpy's, nice move.

The Corner Bar

524 N. K St., Tacoma, 253.627.3480
The Corner Bar is located in a somewhat shady neighborhood of Fifth and K Streets. By "somewhat shady," I'm not referring to the neighboring houses, but more the chilly corner store across the street and the nearby rundown Laundromat. But to be honest, from the outside, the Corner Bar looks like one huge dive joint in itself. One that only familiar people should patronize. The Corner Bar is a hot goldmine of great beer, awesome people and excellent homemade food. This place is NOT a dive bar in the least. I was somewhat disappointed not to find a treasure trove of leather captain's chairs, bad wood paneling, and toothless barflies sporting mullets and staring at my breasts. Yet, I was filled with glee as I watched Jeff and bartender Red walk around talking to familiar faces as I sipped on my Manny's Pale Ale. With more than 12 beers on tap, only two are domestic - and they're all ice cold. There's a full liquor bar, and they also carry a legend of having some of the best mac ‘n' cheese in Tacoma.

Dave's of Milton

1502 11th Ave., Milton, 253.926.8707
Dark, yet not at all gloomy, Dave's lounge (Hide-A-Way room) seats about five people belly up to the bar. Although it's my favorite place to sit, all the spots are full. Dive Bar 101 tells me the regulars are plentiful and loyal here, so I opt for a side seat at a nearby table. Stephanie the bartender (I dig the name) exudes a laid-back happiness as she pours me a superb, cold as frozen-over-hell draft beer. I'm in love. Pull tabs, ceiling tiles, afternoon local lounge lizards, wood paneling, faux brick fireplace, only two beer selections on tap, and great cheap steak deals (16 oz for $14.95) make me give this small backroom lounge a "thumbs up" on the dive bar scale. What I didn't know, but was definitely happy to find out, were all the outlets of entertainment that lie hidden in this glorious, dark dive bar. Texas Hold ‘Em every Thursday, karaoke on the weekends (every good dive needs a karaoke machine), and comedy acts once a month. I'm so stoked. I plan on planting my ass on one of those barstools to hold my place until the next poker tourney comes around. The servers are like family as they mingle around the guests. Carrying on conversations I'm sure they've had going for decades, no one misses a beat as I enter the building. Smiles and greetings welcome me immediately, but it's the door in the corner that's really calling my name. Thankfully they serve good grub as well as cold beer, I'm going to be Hidin'-Away at the Hide-A-Way for quite a while.

Dawson's Bar & Grill

5443 South Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.476.1421
While it's located on 56th and South Tacoma Way, the clientele is not what the uneducated dive bar enthusiast would expect. Trina the daytime bartender tells me about the nice patrons, and the absence of "punks and thugs" at her bar. This news makes me eager to return, as well as the deep Bloody Mary she's served to me in a tall, chilled glass. Dawson's Bar & Grill has become a self-proclaimed "Darthouse." Dart machines line the walls, and local dart-meisters line up every Sunday and Wednesday for a guaranteed $300 payout. A well-equipped stage hosts bands Thursdays through Sundays. Artists such as Kim Archer, Billy Shew, and Tim Hall deliver the goods on a regular basis - along with cover bands that throw the likes of Journey and Lynard Skynard into the audience This place is clean, yet comfortable - worn yet updated. The regulars hail owner Kenny as "running South Tacoma Way," and insist that he is someone I need to meet. I decline (stop trying to drag me away from my barstool and Bloody Mary), so the guys walk up to me one by one and introduce themselves. I meet Tommy, who has to be in his mid 70s, and learn the he is the opening bartender seven days a week. What time do they open, you ask? Six in the morning. Yeah, baby - a true dive bar opening hour.

Diamond Jim's

1616 S. 325th St., Federal Way, 253.838.1440

What makes a good dive bar into a great one? Aside from the leather captain's chairs, smoky mirrors, wood décor, pull tabs, absence of windows, and rope lights, it's the amount of regulars. Uncle Don arrives at 4 p.m. every day to claim his reserved seat at the bar. Plaques are randomly placed on the walls commemorating past regulars that have passed away. Kelly has set up a 12-top for her Wednesday group of ladies that comes in for lunch. As I sit and watch, they file in one-by-one. Kelly remembers all of their names, and exactly how many screwdrivers to make. There are three beers on tap, karaoke, a very small dance floor, plenty of TVs, an array of wonderfully plush leather booths, and some of the best service I've ever had. I'm not gonna lie - I'm dying to go back. It was my first time there, but definitely not my last. Diamond Jim's was a dive bar with a little extra class, dignity, and security. I really felt at home. And isn't that what finding your favorite bar is all about? And to Kelly - thank you for the flowers, and yes, I'm feeling much better.

Eastside Tavern

410 Fourth Ave. E., Olympia, 360.357.9985
Honestly, the place looks like a trashy hole as you pass by the front doors. I'm not gonna lie about that. Still owned by its original founding family, the Eastside Club Tavern has been an Olympia staple since 1942. I instantly felt the warmth of wooden bar comfort as I planted my bum close to the tavern's cute, friendly bartenders. This place reminds me of what a true tavern should be, and a place I could see myself spending endless hours killing what little brain cells I have left. The Eastside does what it was born to do - serve beer and wine only - and they do it very well. Their top priority is to serve micro beers from small breweries especially harder to find ales. As I ponder with complete orgasmic excitement over which unique beer I'm going to drink, I ask how I might grab a bite to eat. Steve the bartender informs me that there is a binder full of local, independently owned restaurant menus that I am more than welcome to bring food in from. As long as it is not from McDonalds or some shit like that, you can bring it in. Better yet, The Eastside has pool tables, wi-fi, ping pong tables, air hockey, trivia, pinball, video games, pay-per-use Internet kiosk, and get this: coin operated laundry. Did you HEAR ME? I said: Coin. Operated. Laundry. Hell yeah! Now the real question is, when can I move in?

Fergie's on the Ave

3504 Mckinley Ave., Tacoma, 253.627.5874
I expected the folks at Fergie's on the Ave on McKinley Hill to card me, but not for proof of legal drinking age. Asking to see my AARP card would've been more appropriate. Seventy-five percent of the almost full house during a mid-week lunch in Fergie's Lounge was made up of local citizens well past the age of retirement. Even the bartender and two servers were knockin' on heaven's door. I approached the bartender and ordered a Bloody Mary. Apparently she thought I ordered vodka on the rocks with a splash of tomato juice, because that sumbitch was STRONG. Yikes! I concentrated on my day's agenda, calculating exactly how coherent I'd have to be to complete the rest of the day's tasks, when an apron-clad employee told me to smile. "You can't help but smile when you're at Fergie's!" he chimed. Wait; was that a beer in front of him? Was he working or not? I swear I just saw him bring out some food for a table. Ah, only at a true dive bar would you witness something like that, and it made me happy. I examined the table of loud-mouthed ladies sitting next to me who were decorated in long, fake fingernails, lots of makeup, and copious amounts of gold jewelry. The amount of hair they had on top of their heads made me thankful for the no-smoking law, and lack of people lighting matches. Painted wood panel walls, square footage of approximately 500 feet, ridiculous amounts of valentine's décor, and a sign that read "Bingo Wednesdays at 7 p.m." made me feel all tingly in my special spot. Well, it was either that or Gertrude the bartender's Bloody Mary. Regardless, I like feeling tingly on a weekday afternoon. Who doesn't?

Flying Boots Restaurant and Spur Room

Flying Boots had it all: wood paneling, upholstery on the walls, leather barstools, low ceilings, rope lights and teddy bears as it's décor, and indoor/outdoor carpet as flooring. Bandito Betty and I took a little trip up to the South 38th and Pacific Avenue area last weekend to check out Flaming Dragon Tattoo. Directly across the street I see a neon sign that dons a blinking boot with wings. I can literally hear it screaming at me - it's dying for me to go in and have a beer. We rally up and plant our asses in one of the five booths. The rest of the seating is all belly up to the bar. If you look up you can make eye contact with anyone in there. This is 1) because of the small capacity, and 2) because the walls are lined with smoky mirrors. This leads me to yet another tell-tale sign of a dive bar: When there are more than two men over the age of 60 staring you down to the point that you know they are going to go home later and masturbate to the thought of you.

Fife City Bar & Grill

3025 Pacific Hwy. E., Fife, 253.922.9555
Fife City Bar & Grill (and Lounge!) has a couple of first-glance dive qualities about it from the get-go. First of all, it's in Fife. Secondly, the neon "lounge" sign out front definitely implies that something shoddy is happening in the bowels of this outdated grill. Unfortunately we had entered a world where, for the first time ever, we were the only ones without a specifically needed membership card. The membership card I'm referring to is the AARP card. There were no dirty bums, no puke on the floors, and no great happy hour prices. Hell, why do you need a happy hour when you're 70 years old? Every hour has happy hour prices when you have a senior citizen discount. I'm pretty sure that the Miami-Vice furniture décor was a direct reflection on what era most of its patrons' relished in right before retirement. Of the three beers on tap (Bud, Coors, Alaskan), we chose Bud. We quickly had to switch to bottled Red Hook as the server (the server from inside the restaurant - as there was not a lounge bartender) informed us that since the taps hadn't been used in such a long time, she wasn't sure they were still operating. Yikes.

Galloping Gertie's Bar and Grill

15417 Union Ave. S.W., Tillicum, 253.588.7131
We took the Thorne Lane exit into Tillicum and after a mile stretch on Union Avenue we had passed about 12 barber shops before reaching Galloping Gertie's. More important than any haircut, We were jonesin' for a liquid lunch, so into Galloping Gertie's side door lounge we went. Right away Arlette greeted us like we were old friends, and old friends is what we quickly became. As we bellied up to the bar, we noticed why Arlette the bar manager was so hospitable - a handwritten sign below the TV read, "Be nice or go away." Arlette hooked me up with an ass-kicking spicy Bloody Mary (just the way I like it). Bad carpeting, four different kinds of mis-matched seating, and neon pulltabs made Gertie's a "dive bar," but Arlette made it "home" for most Tillicum residents. She apologized for the mess (there was none), as she hung up Halloween decorations. Hell, I haven't even hung up my decorations yet..Thank you, Arlette, for showing us such warm hospitality. It's rare we find a dive bar so inviting. Even if we did have to pass 12 barbers, five teriyaki joints, and seven check cashing stores all within one mile. Ah, Tillicum, we love ya.

Goldfish Tavern

5310 N. Pearl St., Tacoma, 253.759.7474
Yes, the Goldfish Tavern is a dive. I'll cut right to the chase on this one. I think all dive bar fanatics are well aware of this. But the ambiance inside this local fish-themed tavern gives off a sensation of actually sipping cold brews on a beach. It's not the décor, per se, and I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe the sunny windows? The fact that it's by a large open park - away from the hustle and bustle of Tacoma's thriving metropolis? Or maybe it's the mindset that automatically occurs when you hear the word "goldfish"? Locals talked shop, and the bartender knew everyone's name as they walked in. Eyes were glued to some typical sports show on the TV. I took it upon myself to test the bartender's sense of humor by asking him if he could change it to "Ellen." He scored points when he was able to laugh it off and not be an ass. Good man. I had heard the 1933-built tavern was up for sale, so I asked our now awesome bartender what the F was up with that. He stated, "It all depends. The owner of the land is different from the owner of the Goldfish Tavern. Whenever the land sells, it sells." Bottom line: Stop in for a quick cold one next time you're in the area. It could be your last chance to carve your illustrious signature in the famed wooden bar top.

The Goodtimes

2200 Mildred St. W., University Place, 253.565.1007
At The Goodtimes Restaurant and Lounge located adjacent to Narrows Plaza Bowl I watched the sun setting through the large, foggy windows. Apparently the lanes were between sets, because the place was dead. But hey, that's ok by me. It just means more attention on my quest to find inebriated solstice. I crossed through the true dive bar opening of iron security gates and laid my eyes upon a white board that listed the "Goodtime specials". Let me tell you, I was certainly excited. Who wouldn't want to drink a "Gangrene" composed of Jagermeister and Midori for only four dollars? I would! Damn that shit went down good. If only that empty stage inside Goodtimes Lounge had a band playing... But no, they don't have bands right now. Hopefully soon.

No pull tabs, good furniture, large windows and a pretty bar. Not very dive at all.

Thankfully my appetite was non-existent or else I would've had to order some food. That's not gonna happen for me in a bowling alley. Although what I did have was another of those Gangrene's. Midori's a food group, isn't it?

Green Pup Sports Bar

2310 84th St S., Lakewood, 253.584.5600
Their sound system ROCKS. With two men playing pool, a couple of bar patrons playing pull tabs, and beautiful Dalin behind the bar, I felt all eyes on me as I approached Dalin's smiling face and she asked me how I was doing. I was honest with her and told her I needed a Bud Light, and I needed it badly. Dalin hooked me up with one of those bad boys, and patiently helped me decide what cheap, fried, greasy bar menu item I was going to ingest next. The hairy, bearded gentleman next to me declared repeatedly, "Green Pup has the best food in town. Yessiree. In my opinion, the best food in town. Green Pup has the best food ... best food in town ... best food ..." Well, you get my point. He thought the Green Pup had the best food in town, in case you didn't catch that. If only I'd been hungrier I would've gladly gone for the daily special, which just happened to be a 12-inch, two-topping pizza and a pitcher of domestic draft (oh hell yeah) for only $14.99. Instead I counted the items within the Green Pup that advertised beer in any shape or fashion. With all the flags, mirrors, posters, and blow-up NASCAR numbers, I was easily discombobulated and retreated defeated to my Bud Light. I curse you damn beer signage! Next time, you're counted, and you're MINE.

Harbor Lights

2761 Ruston Way, Tacoma, 253.752.8600
I figured Harbor Lights' bar would be the perfect place to achieve both a solid fish meal AND a worthy liquor buzz. So naïve I was, fresh from under a large wheel of Texas tumbleweed, I had never even heard of a clam, much less eaten one. (And no, I'm not talking about eating a bearded clam, perverts.) One simple day in 1996 at the Harbor Lights bar I erased any preconceived notions and downed my very first steamed clam. Delicious and nutritious, it was love at first bite. (Sorry, George Hamilton.) Leather seats, cheesy carpeting, rope lighting, Commencement Bay views, and one of the most spectacular Jim Beam decanter collections imaginable lay upon the innards of this dive bar within a landmark Tacoma restaurant. Legend has it that old Harbor Lights owner secretively and slowly skimmed the liquor out of each and every collectable Jim Beam container displayed in the hovering glass cabinets - making their net worth drop in large amounts.

Harvester Restaurant

29 N. Tacoma Ave., Tacoma, 253.272.1193
I was ready to belly-up, but the bar was completely full during my daytime trip, and only a couple of tables were unoccupied throughout the room. Wow, I was impressed, to say the least. A nice lady, whom I assume was the manager, looked a little surprised (as did all other bar patrons) to see me enter the room. They looked at me as though to say, "Hey now, you aren't one of us regulars!" I ordered a very yummy Bloody Mary that set my belly on fire with pepper and Tapatio, just the way I like it. After settling into a back table, the real bartender entered the room and declared two cabs waiting outside. She knew everyone by name, and knew exactly what two people would have called a cab. Again, I was impressed. She knew her shit. I tried to blend in and simply people watch, but a nearby table caught onto me. A gentleman at said table gave me googly eyes and flirted with a smile. I glared at him and whispered a warning, "I'm watching you. Be good." He immediately picked up his boring newspaper (obviously not a Weekly Volcano) and began reading. That's right, be afraid, mister. Be very, very afraid. With the amount of alcohol inside this fiery and flavorful Bloody Mary, it was easy to forget I had anything to do. Thankfully the pretty bartender read my mind and hooked my up with yet another reason to sit back and chill. The Harvester lounge is a great place to get going on your afternoon drunk, I guarantee.

The Haven Tavern

12510 Pacific Ave. S., Parkland/Tacoma, 253.537.5150
Located on Pacific Highway in Parkland, The Haven is your typical college student's retreat. Loads of hot college men and tattooed bikers populated the innards of what I was soon to declare as "The dive that answered all my Christmas prayers." Music blared from the jukebox, people chatted away, and not one but two bartenders greeted me with fervor and friendship. Stephanie and Carmen were hurriedly busy slingin' drinks, but had no problem chatting me up as I sipped a tall, cool one to the college locals and biker-dudes alike. There was no bad carpet, and The Haven was tastefully tacky with a wonderfully obscene amount of holiday decorations - fake spray snow and all. I could've stayed all day, and I almost did. Once I reached a point of hunger, it was the pizza I was told to eat. Rumor has it that even Farelli's Pizza down the street sends it's employees down to grub on the pies. Come Friday and Saturday nights The Haven packs in the party-goers and welcomes its longtime loyal customers. I give The Haven a huge round of applause. For them to easily make me waste away a Wednesday afternoon as I sip cold suds and watch fine young men bend over pool tables? BRILLIANT.

Hob Nob's Sidedoor Lounge

716 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.272.3200
OK, gotta tell you - BEST Bloody Mary in Tacoma. They make their own mix, and make it well is what they do. For a lunchtime drink, the Bloody Mary is a meal in itself, this I know from experience. If you happen to stumble into the Hob Nob restaurant at 6 a.m., you can catch the nurses from the hospital getting' their drunk on after a weary all-night shift. The Hob Nob Sidedoor opens at 11 a.m. and rocks with a cool lunchtime crowd, getting busier with the 3-6 p.m. happy hour crowd. The atmosphere is welcoming, the people are the kind of people I call my friends, and the Hob Nob Sidedoor is the epitome of Tacoma all wrapped up into our very own neighborhood Regal Beagle. I expected Jack & Janet to come waltzing in the door at any moment. Leather captain's chairs, dark interior, pull-tabs, lots of domestics on tap, and some indescribable carpeting all amount to a top-notch dive bar. There's .38 Special blaring from the electronic jukebox, Karla at your service, and me sittin' at the bar sippin' a tall cool one. I bet you can barely imagine a more picture-perfect scenario. I know I can't.

Home Plate Tavern

1042 S. Sprague Ave., Tacoma, 253.272.9713]
The sign catches your eye, but you're too scared. Is it the neighborhood? Is it that there's nowhere to park? Is it the fact that it has almost no windows? We parked in back, climbed up the wooden ramp, and entered through the heavy back door. It took us a minute to gather our senses. The lights are so bright - yikes! I expected this place to be dark, dank and closed in. It was the exact opposite: plenty of open tables, darts, pool, beer posters, and toothless mullets chatting away. An incredibly beautiful vintage beer cooler lined the wall. The 113-year-old bartender immediately asked us what we'd be having while the only other two females in the joint sized us up. Let's see - our beer options were domestic, domestic, or domestic. They had six standard domestics on tap. The beautiful cooler I mentioned above housed nothing but the finest canned beers including Milwaukee's Best, Olympia, and I think I saw some Colt 45 in there. All I know is the closest to microbrew they had was Alaskan Amber. Just about everyone in Home Plate tavern had some form, shape, or variety of mullet. I tried to count the number bar patron teeth, and I got to 22 total visible teeth before the two female barflies glared a hole in our heads. It was painfully obvious we were invading their territory. We finished our beer and headed out

Johnny's at Fife

5211 20th St. E., Fife, 253.922.6686
I freakin' LOVED Johnny's at Fife's lounge. It reminded me of a bigger, nicer Diamond Jim's. This place is a throwback to the '70s with no marks of wear and tear. Every shiny, tear-free, cushy booth and captain chair offers perfect viewing for their infamously busy Karaoke nights. And let me tell you, the Karaoke at Johnny's is no joke. I expected Robert Goulet to pop out of the wood paneling and break into a throaty verse. Who knew Fife was such a hot traveler's destination? I sure as hell never would've guessed it. Conveniently located within the same parking lot as Motel 6 off Interstate 5 in Fife, Johnny's at Fife restaurant hosts a gift shop that rivals the Bellagio in Las Vegas. No, not really. It was easy to sink into the Johnny's comfort for a few hours as I downed $1 Bud Light drafts and watched my boys in tight pants throw around the pigskin on TV. Nothing was dirty, cluttered, or weird about Johnny's lounge - it simply felt like my living room, wood paneling and all.

Le Voyeur Café and Lounge

404 E 4th Ave Olympia, WA 98501, 360)943-5710
Le Voyeur has red and pink walls, framed crayon drawings, a wooden bar, mis-matched seats, and an amazing selection of beers and wine. And by amazing I mean different and plentiful. On tap you find the likes of Lagunitas, Boddington's, Hoegaarden, and then some OLY beer. The wine selection had a sheet of its own on the menu, delicately broken down by country. I loved it. Take a few steps behind the back wall of the restaurant, and enter "dive-city." Please, allow me to explain "dive-city." Dive-city is a different type of dive bar, one that Le Voyeur represents very well indeed. There's something gritty, unusual, down-to-earth, and non-scary about a "dive-city." It has walls that aren't black, yet they're still covered with posters promoting local shows. The barstools are wobbly and torn, yet they're red and glittery just the same. "Dive-city" is a scene right out of any random B-movie where the newly blossoming 1980s American "alternative" music scene can be played out. THAT'S Le Voyeur. It's seedy, it's alternative, it's unique, and it's wonderful.

Lucky Silver Tavern

2605 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.472.0360
Ginger Knoxx, the hardcore dive bar girl that she is, had told me that Lucky Silver wasn't as sleazy as one would think. I had never been in and was curious as to what this South Tacoma Way establishment had to offer. From the outside, Lucky Silver screams flagrant trash, bar fights, and wicked whorish stare-downs. Kathy the bartender was pleasant and welcoming as she poured me a damn strong Bloody Mary to stroke my taste buds. I flopped myself down onto a padded tableside bench only to realize that there was in fact no padding. Inside the Lucky Silver walls, beer advertisements cater to Bud Light drinkers from the 1980's era. A pool table, darts, pull tabs, and a big screen TV give South Tacoma's finest barflies plenty to do while listening to the swoosh of eighteen-wheeler semis as they race by on South Tacoma Way. As my crew and I chatted atop our chin-high table we noticed a significant amount of yellow cigarette burns marking tabletops and leather upholstery all around us. Apparently some things Lucky Silver never had were effective bench padding and effective ashtrays. But I guarantee they've always had effective Bud Light merchandising. A full menu revealed delicacies such as one-dollar tacos, fried chicken gizzards, and hot dog platters.

Malarkey's Pool & Brew

445 Tacoma Ave. S., Tacoma, 253.383.3301
City Lights across the street from The Grand Cinema officially became Malarkey's Pool & Brew in October 2007. I remember the place well as I lived one block away, back in the days before marriage. We grabbed the last three barstools and prepared to perk up with a Red Bull and vodka. Damn that shit's tasty. Bartender Merilee was happy to hook us up with two of them for a mere $5. That's right, I said FIVE DOLLARS. I don't know if I'm used to paying Vegas prices of $14 a drink or what, but that was an outstanding price for two hefty drinks. Fortunately for Malarkey's daytime alcoholic beverage consumers, happy hour runs all day from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. These long hours of happiness also include $2 drafts to swell your belly and inebriate your brain. My favorite part of Malarkey's is their "Man-day Mondays." Food, pool and drink specials for the men on Mondays. So basically Malarkey's is giving America's beloved "Ladies Night" a huge middle finger. The abundance of pool tables, beer signs, and sketchy (yet awesomely nice) men made me want Malarkey's to be a dive bar, but it was a hard call to make. Rib Eye steak specials made me lean toward dive-ness, yet clean floors and grubbin' hamburgers made me think otherwise. This one's a tough one.

Mazatlan Restaurant

10518 South Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.588.8817
It's been an ongoing deliberation over whether or not lounges in Mexican restaurants could be considered "dives." The deliberation has mainly taken place in my own head, I argue with myself every time I pass one. They seem so tacky - how could they not be considered dives? Yet they are so tastefully armed with delicious, homemade enchilada dishes - how could I possibly put them in a "dive" class? In order to cover my dive bar bases, I believe it would be only fair to review one Mexican restaurant's lounge, Mazatlan in this case and mark all like-minded taquerias off the list. Flamboyantly Mexican in every realm of your "Mexican" imagination can go a long way. The place is stereotypically decorated with Mexican flags, piñatas, blow-up limes hanging from the ceiling, and tropical foliage plastered upon every wall, bench, and barstool. That's enough for me to call this lounge a dive bar right off the bat. But then you notice the cleanliness. The fresh smell of bleach, the clean carpets and the matching table sets are a dead giveaway that this Mexican lounge is part of a well-kept restaurant. Our bartender, Lily, greets us quickly, brings us chips, and quickly places my happy hour $2.50 Dos Equis pint right in front of me. Plus she's dressed nicely, has a beautiful face, and has all of her teeth. I'm so confused. By looking around I want it to be a dive, but Lily's service won't let me. All this thinking makes my brain hurt. Ouch. I need a beer.

McCoy's Tavern

418 4th Ave E., Olympia, WA 98501, 360.352.0696‎
Wobbly barstools, musty stenches, and dingy, poster-covered black walls -ahhhh it was dive bar heaven. Add in some back-room random worn-out couches, cheap ass beer on draft, Charlie the "I could give a heaping, steamy shit" bartender, and you've got yourself a priceless afternoon within Oly's dive-y-est of dive bars. I met my new friend Sam, McCoy's seven-foot bohemian doorman outside. Then I offered him my lip-gloss; he politely declined, and then offered to show us where he worked: McCoy's Tavern. His influence got us preferential PBR treatment. We walked outside with Sam to the smoking area while he corrupted his lungs, and bravely endured the stare-downs from other faithful McCoy patrons. Sam showed us how to sneak in the back gate after being kicked out. Oddly, I was the only one in the populated smoking area who had a lighter. And I don't even smoke.

The Milton Tavern

7320 Pacific Hwy. E., Milton, 253.922.3340
The Milton holds an extensive beer collection that you can't deny. Bad carpeting, exposed insulation, and cheap lighting make this place a dive. But it is a fantastic dive that my entire family loves. That's right, kids are welcome until 9 pm, and guess what? There's a plethora of board games for all guests to enjoy. Best part is that some are specifically marked "Adult - Over 21". Games, beer, and a family dive atmosphere - you really can't ask for more. For years now, the outside of The Milton Tavern has been under construction. It's looked like an utter and complete dive since my first time there more than 10 years ago. I've passed by there on a somewhat daily basis for about three years, and three years is almost how long they had scaffolding up along the building's exterior. At one time the pizza dough was hand-rolled and the sauce was homemade. Now, The Milton is all about cost control. Everything is precise, measured out exactly, more expensive, and bought pre-prepared. When we complained about the obvious change in what was once the best pizza we'd ever had, we were answered with, "The owner is trying to cut costs and buy stuff already made." I can't begrudge a business owner for trying to survive in the throes of a recession, but I really, REALLY miss the old Milton Tavern pizza.

New Peking Chinese Restaurant

21179 State Route 410 E., Bonney Lake, 253.863.4485
It's in a strip mall, it's in Bonney Lake, and there were homegrown-looking men loitering around the front door's bushes. New Peking Chinese Restaurant off Hwy 410 had all of those things, but it was the "Lounge" sign that peaked our interest. We naturally assumed by all of the aforementioned descriptives of this New Peking restaurant, that we were headed for the trashiest of trashy dives. And we were right. As we approached the horde of smoking men in construction vests, all eyes were on us. Why? Because we were the only ones there who were sober at 2 p.m., and we had vaginas. Apparently that was what made us different from everyone else in new Peking. I headed straight to the back and admired the December 2007 events lineup still posted on back of the restroom door. The KAke stayed at the bar and ordered her beer and my latest dive bar drink - a Bloody Mary. I don't know how the polite bartender heard KAke's order over the ruckus amongst the barstools. Two men, not sitting anywhere near each other, were exchanging debatable dialogue concerning Boeing strikes and the necessary value Unions have on businesses. See what I just did there? I made it sound like the men at the bar were having a somewhat intelligent conversation. Well, they weren't. It was loud, obnoxious, and full of unmanly swearing, such as, "There's no way I'm going to take it up the poop-shoot!" The "poop-shoot"? Seriously dude? I took one sip of my Bloody Mary and immediately determined my drink's tomato juice was left over from that amazing December 2007 era New Peking is still clinging onto. I just about gagged and spit out my drink. I very well could've spit it out on the smoke-scented, food stained carpet, as it really wouldn't have made much of a difference. The KAke decided not to go on with her third sip of beer, and we left New Peking. That place was too much to handle, even for seedy women like us.

Nisqually Bar & Grill

10323 Martin Way E., Olympia, WA 98516, 360-491-6123
I noticed pull tabs, pool tables, and literally hundreds of old beer taps lining the ceiling, in the Nisqually Bar & Grill on Martin Road in Nisqually, yet upon examination of their current drafts, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. I saw Sam Adams, Widmere, Pyramid, Dick's, maybe some cheap domestics, and then I noticed "HALO IPA". Do you know what that is? It's Budweiser's newest IPA. My beer world has finally landed inside an alcoholic matrix when my cheap domestics have entered the dimension of micro-flavors. I blinked in disbelief as I sipped my ice cold Black Butte Porter. Now, I know I don't look the hottest when I'm sporting my workout clothes and no makeup, but that's no reason to run away when I arrive. I couldn't even catch one name of the three adults working; they were way too busy gossiping in the kitchen the entire time I was there. I'm not saying the service was bad; it actually was done "by the book." But it was "by the book" and that was all. The few sentences I extracted out of my server were, "What can I get you? How's your food?" and, "Ready for your check?" It was like pulling teeth trying to start up a conversation, something I'm not used to at all in a dive bar. My favorite part of Nisqually Bar & Grill, besides the yummy food and extremely cold beer, is the outside seating. For the love of all things biker (their primary crowd), Nisqually Bar & Grill has developed a covered smoking area. It is cleverly named the "Butt Hut". Butt Hut. C'mon, you know it's funny. I sure think so.

North End Tavern (Slappy's Garage)

2622 N. Proctor St., Tacoma, 253.759.6440
With hardly any signage and a front door adjacent to a toy store, you'd hardly know there was a hidden dive bar waiting to be invaded. We have been eyeballin' this place for quite some time, so we headed on in. North End Tavern was a blue-collar after-work pit stop for us. Dead thirsty from a hard day of meetings at the Weekly Volcano World Headquarters, I was pleased to see the standard dive bar microbrew selection on tap. I was also glad to see some very attractive pool tables in the back room. Pull-tabs, excessive beer signage, butt-hurting barstools, bad carpeting, a fake fireplace, and a bartender that everyone knows and loves (Floie), all together give us an impression that this place is definitely a dive bar. What makes it so weird is that it's in the heart of the Proctor District. Something's just not right about that, like a mindfuck is what it is. Remember Pepsi Clear? Your eyes were saying it was Sprite, but your mouth was saying it was Pepsi. Fortunately, and unlike Pepsi Clear, the North End Tavern has stood the test of time. And I'm pretty sure no one's hair has ever caught fire in a North End Tavern advertising campaign.

O'Malley's Irish Pub

2403 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.383.3144
I had been to O'Malley's a few times in my old Femme Fianna Dockyard Derby Dames days. It was always late at night, dark, crowded, and reeked of beer and sweat. I loved it. The best throw downs, punk bands and bartenders have graced O'Malley's soil during the after dinner hours - so it was up to us to see what we could learn from a little dive bar visit during the daytime. That is, after all, one of the true dive bar tests. We snagged the farthest three barstools from the door. It fit our usual plan to be close enough to observe the regulars but far enough to not be in the way. We had a great time as usual at O'Malley's, but seeing that joint in the daylight proved to be eye opening. Yes, I believe we would consider O'Malley's a "dive" of some sort, but it look's just plain ol' COOL in the light of day. They had plenty of great beers on tap, nice pool tables, not too many random beer signs, and no pull-tabs. We felt happy to be a part of such a great, historic bar along Sixth Avenue. With all the new, trendy bars popping up along the way, O'Malley's is a gem of a find. Plus the wobbly barstool put my right labia to sleep, so that was a bonus.

Opal Lounge

5226 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.473.2600
What started out in 1912 as the Opal Saloon, hosting a brothel above its landmark South Tacoma Way storefront currently represents what is Tacoma's oldest bar. Well, kinda. Technically it is the oldest bar that started out as a bar, and still currently runs as a bar. Now when I say "technically" it means "from what Opal Lounge bartender Patty told me in her smoky voice." And that pretty much is like quoting the dictionary, right? According to our daytime barfly friend perched next to us (not a credible source by any means), you can witness Opal's acclaimed storefront in the background of Andrew L. Stone's 1961 movie "Ring of Fire." Sound familiar? Our barfly friend swears this is the same movie Johnny Cash wrote a song for which holds the very same title. Well, I've done my diligent research and have found no proof confirming that our barfly friend's Johnny Cash statement is true. We sip our domestic drafts as our tummies begin to grumble. We're hungry, so we ask Patty what she recommends from her 10-item menu. "Nothing," she says, "Everything's frozen and micro-waved. See those Full Meal Deals on the menu? Those are $1 frozen dinners from Safeway that we sell for $10.99." Who says bartenders can't be honest? Along with pull tabs, $1 Jello shots, barstool bingo, mass St. Patrick's Day decor, and duct-taped barstools, Opal Lounge's food menu options seemed to fit right in with the ambiance of what I will certainly label "a typical dive bar".

Pegasus Restaurant and Lounge

1320 Puyallup Ave., Tacoma, 253.572.5300]
Go in and take a look at the Pegasus Restaurant and Lounge for yourself. Check out the world of faux oak, brass fixtures, and smoky glass. Sit back and listen to the men at the bar babble nonsense such as "Everyone's my daddy!" And "I'm Miss Gerty!" You might even catch an asscrack or two. I know I did. With my dive-bar radar, I located the stereotypical "side door" to the lounge. The front of the restaurant was a-hoppin', but apparently the smoking ban has killed the business for the haven of wood paneling and leather cushioned barstools in the back portion known as the Unicorn Room. Linda, who settled me in and gave me my menu, warmly greeted me almost immediately. I needed breakfast, I needed coffee, and I needed liquor in that coffee. All I know is this place is a party waiting to happen. Plenty of seating, clean, close-knit atmosphere, great service, full menu for breakfast and lunch (homemade!), appetizers in the afternoon, pool table (I suck at pool), pull tabs, internet jukebox, and more liquor than even Dean Martin can handle. But don't go in expecting to grab a cold draft beer, its bottle only, baby. Ranging from Rainer to Heineken, you can take your pick and add that early morning tomato juice concoction to your beverage.

Pine Street Landing

3832 S. Pine St., Tacoma, 253.474.9898
HOLY LORD OF ALL DIVE BARS - I'VE HIT THE MOTHERLOAD! Whoa whoa whoa baby, the lounge part of Pine Street Landing and Lounge on the corner of 38th and Pine is a damn goldmine, I tell ya, a GOLDMINE. The initial dive bar giveaway was the "and Lounge" at the end of the restaurant name. Second hint was the separate "back door" entrance to the lounge. After that it was the pool table upon entry that had a midday crowd of cute tattooed boys in wife-beaters gathered around, a severely obscene amount of décor, which included multiple dart competition trophies, a big screen, wood paneling, a 6 a.m. lounge opening hour, low box ceilings, no windows, and curvy retro benches. Best part of all - the blaring country music. Yes folks, country music. The fact that this female newcomer stopped and sang David Allen Coe's "You Don't Have To Call Me Darlin'" verbatim, well it made the regulars stop and stare. I was at home, literally. My daddy would be so proud. Jennifer the bartender hooked me up with one of the most kickass Bloody Mary's I've ever had for a liquid lunch. If there was ever a divey "Cheers"-type bar in Tacoma, Pine Street Landing is it. No matter what time of day you stop by, there's fun to be had, and diveness to be felt.

The Pup Room

Poodle Dog, 1522 54th Ave. E., Fife, 253.922.6161
The Pup Room is adjacent to Fife's very own kajillion-year-old Poodle Dog Restaurant. Built in 1923, the Pup Room is one of the best-built dive bars I've ever seen. It was darned near fancy with high ceilings, a huge fireplace, exposed brick, decorative wood paneling, and exposed wood beams on the ceiling. I bet it was smoker's jackets wall-to-wall back in 1923. Now, in 2008, it's just a really fancy dive bar. Next to us, the homeless guy opened and re-opened the same pull-tabs just to make it look like he was doing something, so he could simply stay in and be warm. The table across from us had the three middle aged single men meeting for a drink after work. One bald guy talked the entire time about his drunken escapades that all took place in 1998. Another talked about the interesting disparities of Playboy as we know it now versus Playboy back when Marilyn Monroe was on the cover. I knew it was time to leave when a man in a cowboy hat had played the same country song enough times over and over that Damon had begun making up his own lyrics describing the quality of meat found in the Poodle Dog chicken strips. Let's just say we might've figured out why they named the restaurant after a dog, and why there's a shortage of stray animals in Fife. My advice: Stick with the pancakes.

The Right Spot

5119 Pacific Hwy E., Tacoma, 253.922.7371
Truth be known, the more of a dive the place looks, the more intrigued I am. That is, until I saw The Right Spot in Fife. From the outside, that place didn't intrigue me at all, it just plain ol' scared me. Tucked in a back parking lot corner amongst potholes and semi-trucks, The Right Spot seemed to nurture Pacific Highway's lost and lonely. Someone should just slap me right upside the face for judging this bar from the outside. The Right Spot is a large, family friendly (until 8 p.m.), full menu, six-pool-table sanctuary. Their extensive menu not only includes every grilled and deep fried delicacy known to Large Marge's corroded arteries, but also has a keen variety of homemade pizzas. Homemade pizzas! Who knew? I thought I had found a hint of true dive bar when I notice only three beer taps on one wall. Until the bartender corrected me with an, "Oh, no lady! We have all these right here!" as she pointed at another entire line of taps. Now for the vodka lover in all of us, The Right Spot carries every infused version of Absolut my shriveled liver could imagine. Ok, so there are pull-tabs, no windows, excessive beer signage, and bad carpeting - but if this place were located in Tacoma it would be THE place to be. Sorry all you Tacoma suckers, The Right Spot's spot is right where I like it - hidden and close to me.

Rock The Dock Pub & Grill

535 Dock St., Tacoma, 253.272.5004
The sun is finally out, and I'll be damned if I'm going to hole up in some dark and lonely dive bar again. Dock Street Landing, Otherwise known as "The Dock," holds a heavy nightly crew of karaoke superstar wannabes. The excessive beer signage, wall of pull-tabs, grouchy bartender, usual domestic/domestic microbrew selection, and mid-afternoon blue-collar crowd are definitely inside my dive bar radar. Yet the deck, large water view windows, and extra smoker's balcony held me back from declaring The Dock a full-fledged dive. It was actually nice.I was certainly confused and ready to just forget about it all until I decided to take my cold Blue Moon brew outside and enjoy the sun. It was there I noticed a lone gentleman in the corner, wearing all black, sitting spread-eagle, one leg propped up on a table - the other on a bench - straddling nothing but a heaping helping of Tacoma waterfront air. He glared at me in the weirdest and most wonderful way possible as he silently pulled out his harmonica and began to play me his tune. The Dock is a beautiful sunny day, anyone welcome, no-holds barred, sail up and have a beer restaurant by day, and a throw-down karaoke dive bar by night. And I love it. Next time I'm bringing my harmonica.

Ruston Inn

5105 N. Pearl St., Ruston, 253.752.3288
What we hoped to find inside the Ruston Inn's lounge area were some local yahoos we could report back and describe using excessive expletives, but once again this was not the case. The service was extremely personable, the patrons greeted you with a smile, and there was no age/gender/income demographic to make fun of. This place was so easygoing it was hard to make fun of. Even Ruston Inn lounge's extreme amount of Kasey Kane wallpaper didn't make me flinch one bit. Pleasant carpet, sterile walls, sparkling clean mirrored shelves, and a nice new big screen TV masked out the fact that there were also pull tabs and bucket-seat barstools for the eye to behold. At Ruston Inn I really couldn't find anything divey about this "and Lounge" theory I've placed upon restaurants. My crew and I struggled to hear the conversation of the middle-aged bleach-blonde drunk at the table next to us, but even her words were soft hearted. When I eavesdrop, I at least want to hear some good shit on someone. Not just what you think of the song playing on the jukebox. How boring.

Schooner Pub & Eatery

5429 100th St Sw, Lakewood, 253.584.1919
I received a note from one of this column's loyal seven readers concerning a bar in Lakewood called The Schooner. It was written on the back of a napkin and had the scent of fermented urine, so I knew it was legit. The note stated that amongst most Lakewood boozehounds, The Schooner was considered "tha shit" and it would be in my best interest to go check it out. So we did. Good gravy in all things pirate we had landed ourselves into the bowels of a shipwreck. Literally, the bow (or stern or whatever) was coming out of a wall, the chairs were buccaneer-wooden, and a secret booth area down below mimicked a fancy captain's quarters. A dive? Not really. Nice people, friendly service, decent beer selection, and as far as we could tell - everyone had their teeth. The crowd were average hard working individuals who were out on a Saturday night after a long week. This place was a tough dive-call. It was a tough call until we went to the restroom. THAT'S when we found this ship's secret buried treasure: A perfume machine!Yessss! We did a few celebratory fist pumps into the air, deposited our quarters, and doused ourselves in an obscene amount of imitation Obsession that would hopefully offend anyone in our path. Ladies and gentlemen, this restroom perfume machine alone is what made The Schooner rise into the dive bar category. Congratulations, Schooner ship hands, not only is your aroma that of a 1989 played-out scent - but you're now considered a "classy dive" in my book. And that's my favorite kind of dive to be a part of.

Seafarer's Sports Bar & Grill

3878 S. Center St., Tacoma, 253.572 8481
Chipped blue paint covered the walls underneath abundant amounts of boating and fishing memorabilia, beer signs, poker certificates, and plastic crab replicas. Grease immediately lined my nostrils and permeated my clothes as burgers were grilled up in the back kitchen, leaving me aching for some Clearasil. The Seafarer is within walking distance of Cheney Stadium and is open to minors until 9 p.m. Matt Steele, Seafarer's new "manager," graciously filled us in on his plans for change within the walls of Tacoma's seven-inch-hamburger patty-having-haven. I was relieved to learn that the big change is that there's going to be no change, at least in the "dive" décor. Steele is definitely planning on bringing in local bands and keeping up with Seafarer's traditional poker nights and crab feeds. I was ultimately convinced that this place was indeed a dive, and was definitely going to be an upcoming party place.

Shamrock Tavern

11118 Pacific Ave S., Tacoma, 253.531.8055
I tell ya what, the Shamrock Tavern is one of the nicest speculated dive bars I've ever stepped foot in, regardless of how from the outside the building looks like an old, dilapidated shanty on Pacific Avenue South. Nicely tiled floor, wooden wainscoting along the walls, un-torn and perfectly matched barstools and booths - this place is simply gorgeous. Even the large, perfectly polished bar came equipped with two grand, brass beer taps hosting about five yummy micro handles, five cheap domestics, and a Guinness Stout. The small amount of pull tabs available behind the bar is hardly noticeable, and the neon beer signage is kept out of the windows and to a minimum. Hell, even if this place is displaying St. Patrick's Day décor at the end of May, they can do that, right? They're the Shamrock Tavern, for fuck's sake!

Skeeter's Lounge

1718 99th St E., Tacoma, 253.531.5900
Separated from the dining room with nothing but a cut-out open wall in between, Skeeter's hosts a lounge with not a bad seat in the house. Comfy benches line the walls, giving ample people-watching opportunity for all. A well-kept dart area sits off to the side so as not to cramp other patrons, and as an added bonus, provides plenty of room for drunks throwing sharp, pointy objects at a tiny bulls eye. Smart call, Skeeter. Oh, they have the best damned biscuits and gravy I've ever had in my boozehound-livin' life. Go there. Eat them. You will thank me.

Spud's Pizza Parlor

7025 Pacific Ave., Tacoma, 253.475.3366
Multiple TVs, one being extremely large, sat between a life-sized stuffed cougar and a plethora of beer signs greeted me as I entered the historic East Tacoma pizzeria. I bellied up and made quick friends with Cheryl the bartender. She was welcoming, knowledgeable, quick-witted, and had on the perfect amount of makeup. Not too much, not too little. Admittedly, she was quite pleasant to look at. For this, I let her pour me a beer. That cold, delicious domestic beer was the perfect way to start off my lunch hour as I asked her a few questions concerning the layout of this huge, hidden lounge with bad carpeting in the back of Spud's Pizza Parlor. When the Seahawks play away, Cheryl tells me that football fans are treated to free breakfast pizza covered with eggs. The layout is perfect for hosting a game time celebration, as well as a silly group of lunch-timers who were just there to have a beer, scope the place out, and chow on their delicious thin crust pizza. Since I had downed an incredible amount of coffee that morning, visiting the restroom was high on my priority list. The fresh smell of bleach pulled my nose hairs and made me thankful this week's dive pick was up on its toilet sterilization. You could tell the place had been worn in from plenty of use, but I'll be damned if they weren't about to keep that bathroom floor clean. I wondered if I could've eaten my pizza off of it. Hmmmmm ...

Steilacoom Pub & Grill

1202 Rainier St., Steilacoom, 253.584.7693
Not only is Steilacoom one of the most beautiful and historic cities bordering a waste treatment plant, but it is also THE place to go for beer selection, neighbors, and days out with the family. I remember this place being called Steilacoom Pub and Deli from my days of living in Lego Land - oops, I mean DuPont. I found it necessary to return to the (now) Steilacoom Pub and Grill for their infamous Wednesday night trivia. What I soon realized was how wonderfully changed my favorite Steilacoom sandwich and suds place had become. With walls knocked down, kitchen expanded, bathroom added, and pizza soon to be on the menu - this was still somehow the Steilacoom Pub I had always known and loved. Yes, there was still that crappy small bathroom in the back corner, and yes there was still the old wooden bar hosting obscene amounts of rare bottled beers that you could (gasp!) take home with you. And yes, that pinball machine with an Alec Baldwin-looking character on it still remains in the bar. My heart raced as if I had just spotted my high school boyfriend at out 20-year reunion. Slightly changed over the years, yet even better looking. Hell, even the trivia was all upgraded and shit. Flat screens on the walls, new sound system, and a kick ass questionnaire complete with videos, pictures, and sweet pot. Eight of the 26 beers on tap were your average cheap domestics, while the rest took resemblance to what "imports" most dives would have. Well, minus the Harmon beer on tap. Seeing that on tap friggen' rocked my socks. And so did Ryan the bartender. But not Dave the trivia guy - All he did was made me look trivia-stupid.

Summit Pub

9502 Canyon Road E., Puyallup, 253.536.1588
Bad carpeting, a kick-ass punching bag video game, massive beer signage, obnoxious wall of pull-tab bins, and Taco Tuesday food deals make Summit Pub a prime definition of "dive bar." Aside from the full and fantastically flavorful food menu, the beer selection also includes a pretty surprising selection of quality brews. Josh was working behind the bar and was open to suggesting new beers, including free samples. Oh hell yeah. One of the many things that send my dive bar lovin' heart racing is slingin' back a few cold ones as the doors and windows are open, letting in a gorgeous day for all patrons to bask in. This is how it was in Texas. This how it was at the Summit Pub. Open the walls, slide up the windows, perch yourself in the breeze, and enjoy what Mother Barley and Father Hops have to offer. Now comes the best part of our Summit Pub visit: The meat salesman. Mr. DeRosa has warned me about this occupation. He calls it "The Franger." That means, "frozen meat in a Ranger truck." I know you know what I'm talking about. This is the guy that comes up to you telling you something happened (tragically) in his life last week and how he was unable to make his meat deliveries, thus having the ability to pass on some unheard of cheap deals on meat to you. Voila!

Terry's Office Tavern

3410 N. Proctor St., Tacoma, 253.752.6262
Terry's feels like the neighborhood hideaway. The tavern where local homeowners escape dinner duty and local DINKS go to feel unpretentious comfort. I say this because as Terry's clock closed in on six o'clock, the place was packed for dinner. Not necessarily with the typical toothless mullets, but with bright eyed couples aging from 25 to 85. These people were coming in for food, not drunkenness. A gravel parking lot, an obscene amount of retro beer swag hanging from the walls, and an actual keg tied to the ceiling was enough to call this place a dive. What caught my attention were the generous wine pours. The bartender filled the glass to the rim. That's right, no half-glass half-ass pour; this one was all the way to the rim. Terry's Office Tavern has an impressive domestic Budweiser-type beer selection on tap. Alongside the domestics there are three more taps, which house the likes of Red Hook and Deschutes. Although there was only one person working the floor, she was hustlin' and bustlin' very nicely in order to take care of what was to be a very large dinner crowd. By the time we were leaving, there wasn't a seat left in the house.

Tower Lanes

6323 Sixth Ave, Tacoma, 253.564.8853
What we quickly learned is that low-class dining comes at a high price. Take for instance a french dip, the cost is $8.10. First of all, why the extra ten cents? I think it's to cover the costs of the iron gates outside the door. Secondly, only if I was dining at Primo Grill or something similar would I expect to pay fucking $8.10 for a sandwich. Directly across the street at Cloverleaf Pizza, you can find a french dip for $6.95. At the Parkway Tavern, Bandito will serve you a killer cheeseburger dip for only $6.50.There were five basic domestic beers on tap, two of which were out. The regulars, all smoke-wrinkled faces and appearing to be in their late 70s (although I'm sure they were around 50 years old), were greeted with "Oh, hi guys! You're usual? The number two two two?" No joke, even their order numbers were fecal-related. What the deuce?

Unicorn Sports Bar

5302 N. 49th St., Ruston, 253.752.5939
Hidden in a Ruston-area neighborhood, you'd never guess that Unicorn Sports Bar bustled nightly with long-time patrons and local barflies. Pool tables, dart boards, taco specials, an easy fried-food menu, old barstools, crazy flooring, and bar-top video games hand this place the dive bar card it was meant to be dealt. Push your way through the stiff, wooden, salon-type bathroom doors and find yourself inside every woman's Sharpie-scripted diary. With a couple of expected wall writings of "Mary so-and-so is a whore" type stuff, one can also find poetic advice, clever limericks, and personal compliments specifically concerning a person's love for the Unicorn itself. A large refrigerated case houses plenty of bottled beer behind the counter, cold and ready to quench even the most discerning domestic beer tastes. I witnessed more than one variety of tomato-based tall-boy beverages. On tap the selection holds approximately six typical domesticated micro-brews such as Blue Moon and Widmere, and four true-to-life domestics. The real shit, like Budweiser.

U.P. Station Bar & Grill

8305 27th St. W., University Place, 253.460.3510
Immediately upon entrance, you are engaged and over stimulated by the bright wall of pull tab bins, beer signs, and flashing trivia machines on the bar. There's Marcy the bartender standing right in front of you, ready to pour you a beer, yet you are stupefied by all the action going on with the wall behind her. "It wasn't long before Marcy had our beer ready, and Theresa the cook was out there asking us what she could make for us. She let us know that Monday's are 75 cent tacos, Wednesdays are $9 steak night, and Friday's are Fish 'n' Chips. After Wayne's Inn, and now this place, I began to figure out yet another dive bar characteristic: Low price steak nights. We were quite surprised at how clean and friendly it was. There was no shortage of flat screen TVs, with some sort of game on each one, and no music on. As chicks who dig tunes, this was quite the bummer. This also made it impossible to rate the randomness of the music. Hmpf. They have leather barstools, indoor/outdoor carpet, 50 percent of it's tap beer being basic domestic, and dim lighting. This sold us that U.P. Station was definitely up there with being a dive bar, yet they were too clean, with too many nice TVs, and not enough beer posters for them to hang with the big dogs.

Valley Pub

1206 Puyallup Ave., Tacoma, 253.572.8321
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. 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.

Wayne's Inn

1902 E. Main, Puyallup, 253.848.3466
A gravel driveway. I gingerly parked my car avoiding the big potholes filled with rainwater, making sure I parked next to the small ones with tiny puddles. As I approached the front doors (That's right, I said doors, plural), I felt like I was playing a game of "Let's Make A Deal." This was item number two to be scored: How many front doors does the bar have in the front of the building? They like to put a couple out front to test you. Wayne's had: an obscene amount of beer posters decorating the walls, low ceilings, wood paneling, and scratch 'n' Sniff menus. There were at least three of the mandatory mullet-men. (The songs on the jukebox ranged from Bon Jovi to Mariah Carey to Hank Williams Jr. Randomness in music adds to the grade. So does grossness of the bathroom. The burger was outstanding, the beer was cold, and the tap variety was pretty good. The only question I'm left with for Wayne's Inn is: Why is it called an "Inn"? Do people sleep there?

West End Pub & Grill

3840 Sixth Ave., Tacoma, 253.759.2896
I was a little unsure about the West End Pub & Grill being "divey" enough for me, but we were wicked-thirsty for a beer; so off to West End Pub we went. There were enough pull-tabs, career waitresses, poor beer selections, and bad carpeting to make this place "divey," but it also had a family feel to it. We bellied up to the very end of the bar, right next to the kitchen. This spot is prime, and provides for endless entertainment and chef mockery. Better beer-drinking entertainment than the typical ESPN, that's for sure. A select West End steak was cut, measured, weighed, finger-prodded, grilled, plated, sent out with the server, and then almost immediately sent back to the kitchen. That was fun to watch, but the real amusement began when the server demonstrated her bitchfest elegy involving the nasty customer who sent back the steak. We anxiously observed, hoping for some spit or floor dirt to accompany the piece of returning meat. No such luck. We finished our IPAs that tasted like Bud Lights and opted out of the steak for dinner. It was on my way to the restroom that I finally saw a true dive bar staple: I saw the "drunk old man that had been there all day" resting his weary bum by a table in the back.

Westgate Inn

5928 N. 26th St., Tacoma, 253.756.7072
Two words for you: Barstool Bingo. Yes, it's as much fun as it sounds, and the man-oh-man does that bar get packed. By five o'clock the neighborhood couples start rolling in. It's like the Noah's Ark of dive bars. Two by two they line up at the bar and order drinks. Not the cheap beer either - they're ordering Dewar's on the rocks, Crown and water, 7 and 7, all the good liquor. And since it's a Noah's Ark, there must be a "Noah" type somewhere, right? Oh, she was there, and her name was Millie. They call her the "Westgate Inn Grandmother." Millie welcomed us, as did the rest of the friendly bar patrons. When I told the bartender I was with the Weekly Volcano he said he didn't know how to make that drink, but the daytime bartender might. Every beer sign they had hanging up said "On tap" underneath it, yet we was quick to notice that none of those beers were in fact on tap. The sliding glass door led to the back "smoker's area" where Westgate Inn owner, Jerry, camped out and welcomed people entering from calling out over the fence. But of course, these people were entering through the secret side door. You remember? The one only the regulars know about. And now we know it as well. We love the Westgate Inn.

Through May 15: "The Lion in Winter"

Joe Izenman on May 1st, 2011

A list of dive bars in the South Sound