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This hole-in-the-wall has been serving up brewskies since 1937, and it looks as if some of the original patrons haven't left their bar stools since it opened. The tables are sticky, the walls are battered and the lumpy, red-leather booths slope toward the center of the room, where it looks as if the floor could give way at any moment. Incongruous knickknacks (Godzilla doll, wooden ships) covered in decades of dust fill the shelves. One bartender, who's been here for more than twenty years, calls himself a "rookie." It's one of those spots where everybody learns your name, but don't worry; with all those $4 shots, they'll forget it in the morning. — T Sahara Meer

No need for a bouncer here! When things got rough, the then 90-year-old owner, Charlie, would grab a broom (clearly not used for conventional purposes) and chase the ne'er-do-wells out the door.

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