Join the Neon Gutter Crew as it travels the back alleys and dark side streets in search Las Vegas’s best dive bars. These are not the bars your fancy friends call “dives” because they don’t have Macallan. These are the places where the bartenders drink as hard as the customers, the bathrooms look like someone’s ass literally exploded, and the beer comes in a can for a few bucks.
We wander Off-Strip, and we talk to local experts, who direct us to bars we’d never heard of or considered, as well as advised us what to avoid. We meet a real clown (or is he just dressed as one), see an overdose, get chummy with a drunk and wasted “showgirl,” and our dive bar sensei.
We talk about all (and give the Neon Gutter spitball of approval to a few) of the following:
Want to send us someplace dangerous? Do tell! Call our Stinkline at (775) 400-2941. Randy Shandis is standing by! Leave your mailing address to get a Neon Gutter poker chip, sticker, and an authentic $100 entry into Bob Stupak’s Vegas World Daily Slot Tournament.
Dino’s
The bar at Dino’s, near the Stratosphere. This view is only available to those who get buzzed in.
The bathroom at Dino’s is–for the time being–clean and seemingly recently renovated.
Huntridge Tavern
“Welcome to the Huntridge.” Or, rather, “Oh, you managed to find our hovel?” Above that failing Bar sign is a dominating sign for the wings joint next door.
The long and narrow Huntridge, with one other patron on a night when the A/C was busted and it was well over 100 degrees outside. Matt takes studious notes while drinking a Hamm’s, just like back in middle school!
The Huntridge Tavern offers a shitload of beers from dirt cheap to local craft, and a shitload of signs.
Mack, our dive bar guide and Huntridge bartender, points out a framed sign that is invaluable for anyone with a Robert in their life.
Want to feel like you went to middle school in a war zone? Just pop into the Huntridge bathroom. It’s got room to lie down.
Double Down Saloon
The small and grungy bar at the Double Down taunts you with so much money just of your grasp. Just like corporate America.
At the Double Down, you are served by Trombo, a clown who only looks surly. He also serves as den mother and hosts Trombo’s Wheel of Fuckery.
As with almost all the dive bars we visited, the Double Down orders you to shut up and drink. There is an open dance (mosh?) floor, a stage, and a pool table.
Puke insurance is available at the Double Down Saloon. God, the number of times we wish we’d had that. And the Double Down terms and conditions are probably far less onerous than those offered by the major insurance carriers.
Matt and Dan sat at the Double Down long enough for a few locals to try and put stickers all over them since the walls are full.
Rusty Spur
The Pabst Blue Ribbon unicorn outside the Rusty Spur welcomes all riders.
Matt and Dan take up the end of the Rusty Spur’s bar, under the watchful eye of Elvis, and below a Pabst Blue Ribbon sign.
HUGE bonus points to the Rusty Spur for the portrait of Lemmy, who belongs on dive bar walls alongside Elvis, Waylon, and Johnny.
The Rusty Spur’s bathroom is surprisingly clean and mostly intentionally decorated.
Hard Hat
The Hard Hat Bar in Las Vegas is “Dive Adjacent” in the words of the bartender. Not quite grimy enough to make the cut, and with a more yuppieish clientele scarfing their fancy burgers.
A few patrons at the Hard Hat who don’t look like they’ve been hanging around cheap bars long enough. Also, note that the walls have been decorated by the bar, not by its patrons.
