Dive Bars: A night at Dinic's
Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
A new column where we seek out the good, the bad and the dicey of Philly's neighborhood dives.
Caroline Russock
Editor’s Note: Pint Sighs is a new column where we seek out the good, the bad and the dicey of Philly’s neighborhood dives.
Dinic’s Tavern | 1528 Snyder Ave., 215-336-2333
Smoking: Yes Jukebox: Digital and well used
Bathrooms: Dodgy but they’ll do in a pinch; plus for doors that lock and toilet paper Head Count/Tab: Three people, $38 before tip: Two Heinekens, three Genesee Cream Ales, three Miller High Lifes, three Michelangelo shots
“This is an old-man bar, guys. We don’t have anything fancy here.” With a greeting like that from the bartender, we knew we’d made the right call kicking off Pint Sighs at this hazy West Passyunk barroom.
The outside signage advertises roast beef and pork, making it easy to confuse this place with the Reading Terminal stand. There are no sandwiches at this Dinic’s. There are plenty of regulars, no one under 25 and a bartender who makes for a memorable night — at least up until your fourth drink.
We considered starting off with a few forties of Old Milwaukee, but ended up going with some Heinekens. The bartender asked us if we wanted to do a shot. “What do you guys drink?” she asked. Being good sports and none too picky, our reply of “everything” was met with more questions and a consultation from a former Dinic’s bartender who was holding court at the end of the bar. My date, who is a big fan of the dealer’s choice shot, told her he was trying to get lucky tonight — pretty much a surefire way to get served something hilarious.
A few minutes later we got two rocks glasses spilling over with a bright yellow mix of what (I think) was tequila, rum, pineapple and sour mix. The bartender told us that she’d taken an art class earlier that day and dubbed it “the Michelangelo,” saying that she was feeling inspired.
After the Michelangelos the rest of the night was kind of a blur with a few more beers, lots of Pointer Sisters on the jukebox and an earnest pickup attempt made via bubble gum shots.
