What Is A Dive Bar And How Are They Different From Other Bars?

Vaguely invite someone out for a drink, and the entailed context runs varied. The vibe could span sleek and spiffy cocktail bars featuring unusual craft ingredients, to cheerful day-drinking breweries and beer gardens, or the good old-fashioned charms of an Irish pub. Yet ask a peer to hit up a dive — and the expected evening turns clear.

The night's gonna be casual, affordable, and likely pretty boozy. There's a vulnerability to such an invitation: You aren't trying to impress anyone with quality drinks, make intimate conversation in a quiet setting, or show off a trendy, underrated spot. Instead, the aim is all about good company, backed by a scruffy environment with a charm that's hard to put a finger on. Such experiential factors make defining a dive bar so enigmatic, yet simultaneously create its magic.

Apart from drinking and socializing, a dive bar doesn't come with a specific premise. There might be a TV, but it's not a sports bar. Sure, you can expect regulars, but opposed to a neighborhood pub, you won't feel a community-centric approach. The vast majority of the time, there's no kitchen, and certainly no table service, which distinguishes them from taverns and gastropubs. Finally — perhaps the one agreeable feature– the drinks aren't high quality. Dive bars serve affordable mass-produced ales or lagers, bottom-shelf liquors, and exceedingly basic mixed drinks. Place your order fast, pay with cash, and focus on the social buzz instead.

Dive bars are like the old-school diners of the boozy realm. They carry history in their walls, whether that's physically marked with Sharpie inscriptions and old photos, or in the perpetual corner dust that's never swept up. There's a dependable you-know-what-you're-gonna-get consistency that pervades any visit, whether it's at three in the afternoon or a packed Saturday night. The beer may not taste great, and the decades-old decor is a tad outdated, but there's a charm to the staleness. Opposed to sleek and trendy new openings, dive bars exhibit the passage of time.

People will remember meeting each other in such places. The bartenders may sound gruff, but only because it's efficient — they'll know your order after a few visits. And regulars exude a pride regarding their spot (both the bar and preferred barstool), so some small talk is expected.

Such a potion of informality, scruffiness, come-as-you-are hospitality, cheapness, and time-worn patina generates a bar experience greater than the sum of its parts. You couldn't intentionally open a dive, nor crown one the best. Ultimately, knowing how to drink properly at a dive bar rests on you, rather than the bartender. The experience is personal and unchanging, like visiting an old friend.