Mike R.
Yelp
Here's a bar that, quite matter-of-factly, looks like it has structural issues. Like the flat the guys in "The Young Ones" lived in, but if it was a watering hole. There are whole weeks and moths where I'm not sure if it's even a going concern anymore...operating hours seem fast & loose, especially in winter and on weeknights. But the neons in the windows are always on, so someone's paying the electricity bill. Once inside, wonderful, sometimes incomprehensible, always incongruous graffiti coats the walls. Some of it baffles, some is astute as hell. Local art and fabulous vintage beer signs hang everywhere. The interior absorbs all light, black hole style. But it's all part of the allure, and it's a welcoming dark/dank, not depressing like other low-rent bars that try their best to shut out the natural world.
CBGB totally delivers on the diversions front; there are bar games galore. They've unceremoniously crammed a sit down Pac-Man (!) next to the front door. There's a non-digital, lo-fi dartboard, a '60s vintage shuffleboard table (mad fun), and dual pinball tables. No jukebox, but the house selection of tunes veers from loud & raucous punk to British pop, and sometimes they have OK to rather good local bands on.
This is all without mentioning...cheap drinks! PBR bottles and strong Jamesons but also a full bar and tasty beer-head brews like Sierra Nevada and New Belgium if you desire a bevvy from a higher station in life. Nothing on draught but it's all good. And...the GIN BUCKET! It's kind of what it sounds like...imagine a huge gin & tonic, but served in one of those tin pails that you get a bucket of longnecks in. And as unflinchingly inexpensive as everything else they serve up. Get two straws and share with your (soon to be very inebriated) sweetheart! It's the dive afficionado's version of the 1950s milkshake date.
Sure, it can get smoky as hell and claustrophobic in the extreme on certain nights, and the men's bathroom door doesn't close all the way (and is right next to the end of the bar). But sometimes those are things you actively seek out and enjoy in a drinking establishment. The bartenders are friendly as hell, they serve and pour a stiff drink (you'll tip well, I guarantee it, not the least 'cause you're buying rounds for a pittance), and the front "concrete garden" of picnic tables is an urban haven on a warm, heady STL summer's night. Sit out there, shoot the shit, and watch/commune with the crowds wandering up and down South Grand all night long. I dare you to find a less pretentious, more equalizing bar on the southside.