Americana distilled, this dive bar apparently got ousted from their original spot on Mercer a year ago due to increased rent costs. So they picked up the bar and walked it one block over to set up shop in another dive spot that was about to close down. Timing worked out for everyone but the bartender confessed that it’s a sign of the time. Apparently a wave of dive bar closures hit Queen Anne recently and the two I’ve found are the remaining holdouts. Based on what I’ve seen, this place should be able to eke out another decade or two at least.

The entire place is lit by neon lights and Christmas lights scattered like cobwebs around the ceiling edges. It’s my second time here and I’m already chatting with the adorable bartender who also reminds me of an old friend. Maybe I’ve had too many friends? Of course, I met most of them while drunk so there’s still room to make an impression. The Wednesday night regulars are filtering in, filling the gaps at the bar. There’s a community of artists in the corner booth with paper and sketches spread out. Two strangers sit across from me watching TV over my head.

The pints of cider are $5 and there’s a coin-op pool table. Most of the patrons seem to smoke cigarettes outside, so having a dugout/joints with me will blend right in. I predict a lot of my laundry money will derive from visits here. “Uh oh, I’m low on quarters. Time to play some pool at the Streamline.” I wonder if they have a weekly pool tournament?