I've never been one for chic cocktail bars in SoHo or Laurel Canyon. The aesthetic is too ritzy, and the drinks, too complex. The people may as well be my co-workers. I prefer to be on an ol' barstool, listening to hair metal beside some 60-year-old divorcé. He's doesn't push a revamped LinkedIn profile or a lifestyle brand. He's authentic, and he abounds in dive bars, the perfect place for a young artist looking for a story to tell. Best yet, he comes in countless shapes and sizes. Here are a few that I've encountered in my imbibing (and how they can inspire you to write the next Great American novel).
The Grumpy Drunk
Probably the most ubiquitous across dive bars, the Grumpy Drunk hides his stories behind a thin shroud of blame. Maybe it's a spouse that ruined it all, or maybe it was that son of a bitch at the plant. Whoever it was, you'll learn the whole story as the shroud falls away to cheap gin and clove cigarettes. …show more content…
Consider for: a proto-feminist memoir.
The Happy-Go-Lucky Drunk
Still a drunk, but the kind that mistakes an intervention for a party. The Happy-Go-Lucky Drunk fails to recognize tragedy and probably hit the bar on 9/11. You'll find him chatting up every patron who walks through the door. Later into the night, he'll have busted his nose against the urinal and will bleed all over the bar in an attempt to get some napkins.
Consider for: a pop-country song.
The Off-the-Clock