A creative blog by Jim Kalin on The Whole 9

HIGH DIVE


I tend bar. I’ve done this on and off for about thirty years. My first job as a bartender was in Columbus, Ohio at a punk bar called Mean Mr. Mustard’s, but I’ve also worked the wells in Florida, South Carolina, and California. Most of my jobs have been at dive bars.

I’ve made some money at writing. I have a published novel titled One Worm that Russian Hill Press in San Francisco put out. I paid for half of a new Honda with that money. I rewrote a kids’ movie about soccer called Home Team that was released in Canada. I had to sue the producers for my money, and I insisted they remove my name from the credits. Don’t ever rent it.

I took up banjo late in life and have made more money at that than at writing. My biggest payday came when the band I play in opened for the Bellamy Brothers this Fall in Aspen. The Bellamy Brothers had several chart-toppers in the eighties, and their mega-hit was Let Your Love Flow, which they opened and closed their show with.

I now have small percentages in two Los Angeles bars. The dividends from those places might put a new roof on our house. But I am a bartender. That’s what pays the bills. It’s given me an expertise, however, and I was interviewed recently by an online magazine that wanted to know what makes a great dive bar. Here are a few of the things I told them.

1.    No mirrors in the bathrooms. We want customers who drink, not primp.
2.    A great jukebox with both accessible and underground cd’s. And no greatest hits! If the place doesn’t have either Let It Bleed or Get Yer YaYa’s Out, it ain’t divin’.
3.    No energy drinks. Whenever someone asks me if I carry energy dinks, I tell them I have the original one; Coke.
4.    No blenders, and we don’t make anything you can’t see through.
5.    Reasonable prices. If you can’t get two drinks for $10, you’re not in a dive bar.
6.    Year-round Christmas lights decorate the ceilings, either because the bartenders are too lazy to take them down, or they just need the light.
7.    No uniforms on the bartenders.
8.    Very few windows in the place. The sun is not a welcome customer.
9.    A limited beer selection, and if there are more than two beers on tap, go somewhere else.
10.    Offer chardonnay or cabernet sauvignon. If the customer requests a wine list, we tell them Napa Valley is only seven hours away by car.
11.    Have a great Bloody Mary mix. The regulars will depend upon it. This could save lives.
12.    No dress code.
13.    No flat screen televisions, and especially directly behind the bar. That ends customer conversation at the bar.
14.    Dive bars have their own matchbooks with great logos.
15.    No dishwasher behind the bar. Three sinks are sufficient, and like blenders, the noise a dishwasher makes is just plain disruptive.
16.    The bartenders must be friendly, but with a dose of surliness. They aren’t necessarily required to remember your name, but they absolutely must know what you drink.
17.    And remember, in a dive bar, the customer is always wrong!

What elements do you think make a great dive bar?

9 Comments

  1. good tippers- i’ve worked the wells too, and know it makes the night better for everyone.

  2. There’s got to be at least one guy slouched over the back corner of the bar, staring into his drink like it’s a magic 8 ball and it can help him ascertain his future.

  3. A dark and semi private corner for heavy necking and moderate petting. A foot rail under the bar. A shuffleboard. Darts. Real darts, not that electronic stuff. Adequate ventilation – a dive doesn’t have to smell like a morgue. Large mirrors behind the bar are better than shelves of bottles: they facilitate down-the-bar eye-to-eye. Part of me likes the frames full of cut out pictures of favorite locals. A small part. A very small part. The rest of me hates them altogether. Enough barkeeps – nothing worse then a single slacker overwhelmed during the rush. I don’t care what kind of bar it is – have a working door on the crapper. Well placed speakers keeps sound even, not blasting from one location. And please, have a back door.

  4. Having spent my misanthropic youth in dive bars in the river wards of Philly, I got a thrill and chill reading your list. I’d add to it a few additional elements.

    * Sitting upon the furthest stool from the light is a guy of indeterminate age who is called “Yo!” He drinks shots and beers without ever uttering a word. When he needs service, he tips his head a few degrees north and the bartender refills his glasses. He wears a Baseball cap from a long-past era and a loose-fitting sweat shirt with raggedy sleeves. Don’t ask him the time. Those would most likely be your last words.

    * There’s always a lady whose best days are far behind her but whom everybody loves and respects. She hasn’t paid for a drink since before prohibition.

    * Three guys fresh from slinging cargo on the docks sit together and speak in a language that probably even they don’t understand but they are friendly to everyone and buy drinks for anyone who says “Hi!” to them.

    Then there’s two guys or a guy and a gal at the booth in the back talking theater, politics and the decline of Western civilization. One of them is me.

    Lollipops and uncorns.

  5. Jim, I think everyone’s suggestions make for a good Part II of this blog, “All of the Colorful Barflies I’ve Met in my Day.” Some would be surprised at the famous names, some wouldn’t be the least surprised. Oh, if you’d only consider writing a tell-all book!

  6. any bar they encourage you to still smoke in. ( and i don’t mean an outside patio )

    # 6 x-mas lights up all year round is perfect

  7. And then there is the other bar, the one they call the end of the line when you are drinking down the avenue. For those not familiar with the term, “drinking down the avenue” it refers to the fact that you have been kicked out of the better bars and the only one that will take you is the last bar before you end up in the river. There are no tabs here. Pay before delivery is the code.

    The coolest thing in this bar is that you find people with the best “bar names.” There is always a “Shaky Bill,” an “Off-the-Wall Paul,” a “Toad,” and of course, “Tawdry Audrey” and “Shelly Kelly.” Then there is “Three Finger Sam,” “Sad Sam,” and See Ya Later Sam.”

    I’ve used the entire crew in short stories but more important, I know all of them well enough to call them by their bar names. Shelly Kelly eats like there’s no tomorrow and when asked where she puts it all, tells the questioner that she has a hollow soul. Tawdry Audrey has her head on a swivel because there isn’t a guy within a hundred miles who isn’t looking to put a bad hurt on her for scamming him out of whatever she could take him for. Off-the-wall Paul is wanted in 6 states. He doesn’t remember what he did or where he did it but he shits confetti anytime he sees a car with a dome light.

    Lollipops and unicorns

  8. You said it brother! My favorite dive bars have always had one or two crusty critters (regulars) hovering around the bar at any point during open hours. I used to love stopping in for a beer midday and chatting with characters whose personal stories surpassed any movie script. I miss my dive bars, wish there was one closer to home.

  9. I can’t believe you worked at Mustard’s. I used to hang out there in the 80’s. Great place for slam dancing. All those old OSU dive bars are gone. They’ve been replaced by upscale stores and coffee houses. When did college kids get so much money? We used to chip in to buy a bucket of draft back for $5 when I was in school.

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