For many people, surviving a week in this crazy world of ours without a good bar would be impossible. For those of us who know our bars, there is a short list of "Must Have's" that a bar must meet to even be considered. It's an important decision, choosing a bar; because nothing upsets the balance of a soul like suffering through a drink at some shitty bar.
The most overiding component when choosing a bar would have to be the 'people mix'. If you can't feel comfortable with the regulars, then don't even bother; because technically, your aim is to become one of this crew. A good regular always pays their tab, always tips well or better, never breaks the bar rules, and when someone else breaks the rules, will always side with the bartender. Notice, I didn't say a regular couldn't be irritating. Every bar has any number of raging alcoholics who are there every day when they aren't sleeping or working. Every good bar will have two, maybe three, but no more. And it's important to note that these drunks are of the harmless variety. They don't start fist fights, though they need to be quieted; and they mostly just ramble on like crazy people. Bartenders should be friendly, but not falsely so. They should have a good repetoire of dirty jokes, as well as a conversational current events and political affairs acumen. The bartender should be someone who deserves your respect as a peer and a pop-intellectual. Good regulars already know the following unspoken rule, but as an aside; don't hit on the bartender. Her husband is one of the regulars and he finds it somewhat irritating when people hit on his wife, then realizing her husband is sitting right next to them, proceed to tell him how lucky he is and how he should treat her well. That shit is lame. Is that supposed to be some kind of sage advice or something? Most importantly, a good 'people mix' can pretty much outweigh any of the following concerns; and should always be the key factor in picking your bar.
A good bar will always have gaming tables. Be it billiards, darts, cards, fooseball, or arcade machines; they must be there. I prefer shooting pool, so my small bar has about 8 regultion nine-footers; but they also have fooseball (an odd game that I've never really understood), pinball, darts, and arcade bowling. Take it upon yourself to loosely pick up at least one of the available leisure activities and become relatively competent. You don't need to be a champ or anything, but competency will help group cohesiveness. The quality of the gaming equipment shouldn't be shabby, but expect some wear and tear.
There should be at least three TV's within view no matter where you're standing in the bar; and a decent jukebox should be available. I'm not a serious sports fan, but I do love watching a good game with friends. Sports can drive a lot of conversation, and if you really get into watching the home team or a championship series; it can be lots of fun and excitement. Hell, sometimes at the bar we'll watch 'Family Guy'; and there's a group of guys who come to watch 'Battlestar Galactica' together. I've never seen that show, but that's probably because I'm too busy getting laid, something that I would assume rarely happens to 'Battlestar Galactica' fans, Trekkies, and that guy who played Bilbo Baggins in 'Lord of the Rings'("RU-dee RU-dee!"). As far as jukeboxes go, modern advances have made them quite satisfactory. Gone are the days of lame, outdated records stuck in rotation. Modern jukeboxes are patched into a network, and instead of playing records or disks, hold the music in mp3 files. The jukebox itself will provide a standard bank of about 50-100 albums that change frequently via the network depending on parameters set by the bar ownership. An added benefit of the network is that it allows listeners to download selections not in the standard rotation at a somewhat higher price. These downloadable titles include just about everything ever made; including the little known fusion version of "My Favorite Things" that Coltrane did. No, not the one you've probably heard, there's another one. I call it heroin jazz, because that's what happens when you mix heroin and jazz. Try not to get the two confused, because if you do; you'll inadvertantly subject yourself to 25 minutes of sonic hell. Damn you Coltrane!
I tend to prefer more intimate, less 'clubby' settings, so as far as size is concerned I try to stick to a place with a maximum capactiy of 100-150 persons. Check the fire marshall's certificate hanging on the wall to get an idea of how crowded it gets in a bar on busy nights. Also, I tend to go for less mainstream places - I don't want to have to wait in line to get into my bar, and I sure as hell won't pay a cover charge to hang out with my friends. Granted, the downside to these type of places is that there's not ever any live music; but that doesn't bother me too much.
A good bar will have a decent to excellent selection of beverages and mixers. For Pete's sake, if you don't care about selection just hit the grocery store for some Bud Light. Personally, I'm not big on beer from a tap versus beer from a bottle. Sometimes keg beer is mixed improperly in the lines and comes out tasting like it's been cold filtered through a goat's asshole; whereas bottled beer is fairly consistent. However, I'm not stuck on one or the other; especially depending on the brew being served. Also, a good bar will consider recommendations by regulars on future products; so if you settle into a bar that doesn't carry what you like, mention it politely a month or so down the road.
Lastly, as a little peice of info, don't be afraid of a nominal yearly membership fee. I'll explain how this works. You walk into the bar and the bartender will ask if you're a member. You're not, so you can either pay the nominal yearly fee (say three bucks) or one of the members can sign you in under their name. If you're a cheapskate and an ass, you'll probably balk at having to pay a fee; followed by some obnoxious remark, probably create a small scene, and leave. At which point the patrons would raise their glasses to each other and toast to Good Riddance. If you're not a cheapskate or an ass, and someone in the bar can tell it by looking at you; they'll sign you in under their name and you're in for the night. If you're not a cheapskate or and ass and no one knows that yet, you'll probably say to yourself "Damn, it's only three bucks." In which case you'd pay the fee, and ask the bartender what's with the silly three bucks. The reason bars do this, your new bartender will explain, is that in some states bars must serve a certain percent of sales in food. However, by charging a yearly fee the bar becomes a 'Members Only' institution; and these organizations don't have to sell a certain percent of sales in food. Moreover, notice the interesting dynamic of clientele control and asshole screening that a membership fee puts in the hands of the bartender and the regulars. If some scuzzy looking bum comes in, no one will sign him in. It also allows the bartender to 'bar' patrons who break the rules from ever returning to the bar. The whole thing creates a dynamic where the regulars and the bartenders kind of police each other. Don't explain it to everyone though, because then we'll never know who the cheapskates and asses are until they're already members. And then we'll just have to bar them.
If you have any questions or comments, or feel I've been to ambiguous in explaining things; please feel free to post them below or email them to me. I'll be happy to address them, as I take this kind of thing very seriously.
