It's easy to drive by this bar: the building is squat, non-descript and the sign is so small, there's no way to read it from the road, leading one of my friends to argue that the name was "Detention... More

It's easy to drive by this bar: the building is squat, non-descript and the sign is so small, there's no way to read it from the road, leading one of my friends to argue that the name was "Detention Center" while I firmly maintained "Prison Camp." The Slammer is just as good, even if the bar looks paradoxically like a Norman Rockwell painting from the window. I've been to bars with a minimalist take on draft selection, but this was bad. PBR was my first choice amongst Bud, Coors Light and Bridgeport IPA. The jukebox pumped mostly groan-inducing selections such as Viva, Las Vegas and Back in Black, while the food looked only a step above 7-11, but that's only because I couldn't see the mystery meat in the crock pot just over the counter. Fortunately, the pros to this place fit a niche: the bartender seemed cool, and it felt like the sort of place that would be good for a quiet afternoon beer.
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