The Pre-Flite Lounge, a beloved Sacramento drinking establishment since the early 70's is closing its doors. What started as a lounge where travelers could relax, have a cocktail and then take the shuttle to the airport evolved to becoming a favorite dive bar with local residents over the years. I know I for one will miss its kitschy décor, friendly cocktail waitress and wonderful jukebox...especially during the summer when it's cool, dark interior was a welcome respite from the valley heat.

Come by the Pre-Flite to wish it and its crew Bon Voyage.
Last night of business will be April 26th.

http://www.preflitelounge.com

1600 Park Ave, Chico, CA 95928. (530) 343-4915

When a friend of mine recently called and invited me to accompany her on a Saturday night to catch her boyfriend’s band’s show in Chico, I can’t say at first that I was jumping up and down in anticipation. This had nothing to do with the band’s musical abilities; but rather that my not-so-distant memories of Chico are mostly associated with late nights at Riley’s Bar, out of control frat parties and consuming unnecessary amounts of Goldschlager (yes, I was THAT girl at one point). However, upon rolling up to the Maltese, I was pleasantly surprised. The bar reminded me of the quintessential dive/biker bar…only much cleaner. It’s situated away from the main drag of drunk college kids throwing up their way across Fraternity Row; however, its location is conveniently just a short jaunt from the neighborhood late-night greasy spoon (Jack’s) and a patch of affordable motels for post-partying crashing.

As far as I could tell, the Maltese appears to cater to the non-mainstream twenties to thirties crowd. Most of the crowd was composed of Chuck and jeans wearers, but there was a generous sprinkling of rockabilly and punk types. On the particular Saturday night that I visited, the evening’s entertainment was composed of three bands for a mere $2. From alt-rock to reggae-punk, every musical palate was pleased throughout the course of the evening. Note, there’s no real stage to speak of, leaving you practically nose-to-nose with the bands—but to be honest, I found that to be one the most likeable aspects of the bar, especially when there’s a cute mohawked-guitarist performing. Drinks were plentiful and reasonably priced (they do take plastic) and the bar staff was equally friendly to both regulars and non. I found that I rarely had to wait to place an order nor did I have to scream my order repeatedly, which is often the case at musical venues.

Despite it's rugged-exterior, the Maltese does an excellent job of upkeeping their facilities. The restrooms are surprisingly tidy and properly stocked for a dive bar. I’m not saying I’d lay down and nap on the women’s room floor but it was as clean as most of the higher end bars in Sac. They’ve also taken the time to build a fenced in, cemented patio area for its patrons to smoke refugee style and mingle in. Before you go and start thinking this is the Waldorf-Astoria of dive bars, please be advised that it IS a dive bar and to keep your expectations in check. The décor is typical bar crapola (posters, beer signs, etc), but the joint is able to pull off a feeling of comfort. Trust me, within a few minutes you’ll feel like you’ve been visiting their counter for years. I know if I’m ever in the area, I’ll definitely make a point to stop in the Maltese for a brew or two.

3651 J St, Sacramento, CA 95816, (916) 455-7155

I may not know owner Dave Boyet personally, but sometimes I feel like his pub, the Bonn Lair, is an extension of my own home. Since I stumbled upon it about eight years ago, it's been the go to place for me to relax with friends, grab an after dinner drink with a date and even throw an unofficial Yelp event or two.

The BL is located next to the La Trattoria in East Sac but within stumbling distance of the grid for Midtowners. It's a cozy, traditional British-style pub that's graced Sac with it's presence since roughly the mid-90's and quickly developed into a favorite neighborhood watering hole. The bar itself exudes a masculine feel- long wooden booths, an assortment of sport memorabilia and a backroom outfitted with darts. In addition, the front end is equipped with a small patio for the overflow and the back end with an open gazebo-like area for the smokers to chill and chat. The atmosphere is relaxed with various locals congregated here and there sucking down their brews, decompressing and BSing about whatever comes to mind. Occasionally the steady hum of conversation is pierced by a loud cheer for some slick rugby move on the telly. I've always found the patrons to be friendly and have come away most nights with a new friend or two. The bartenders Joe, John and (my fav) Mike are quick with the pour and always willing to chat up both the old-timers and the newcomers.

And most importantly, let's not forget the beer...oh the wonderful beer! Bonn Lair carries my favorite- Chimay (aka the nectar of the gods), as well as my trusty standby- Guinness on tap but it also showcases a multitude of great draughts, ales, bottled beers and ciders for every palate (for example Old Speckled Hen, Maredsous, and lambics...quit salivating now...). Most recently I discovered that they also offer a "beer by the bucket" special, how cool is that?

Too much beer and need some grub? The BL is one step ahead of you and has taken the liberty of offering some pub fare to the likes of some fish-n-chips, bangers and the infamous Scotch egg. The staff also doesn't raise an eyebrow or grouse if you prefer more standard eats and wish to bring in some Chinese takeout from next door or a pizza from Pizza Guys just a few doors down. Oh and don't forget on Sundays once you've placated your tastebuds and destroyed your liver with beer at the BL, you can always match wits and engage in a friendly game of Pub Trivia. You gotta love a place that allows a group of girls to christen their trivia team, "The Yoni's." :)

My only gripe about the Bonn Lair...and it's a teeny-tiny gripe, is- what genius decided to install the paper towel pull on the opposite wall from the sink and a mere two inches above the toilet paper dispenser? When one is three sheets to the wind and has a bladder the size of a peanut, the last thing they want to do is mistakenly dry their yoni with a rough industrial grade paper towel. Ouch! Well, my yoni may not love you BL but I sure do! See you soon!

1112 Firehouse Alley, Sacramento, CA 95814, (916) 442-5751

Recently, some friends and I found ourselves ducking down a dark alley in Old Sac and timidly stepping through the iron gated doorway of the Back Door Lounge. Crossing over the threshold, we found ourselves confronted with a sight that equated a cross between Liberace's boudoir and an old time brothel. As your eyes adjust to the candlelit room, you're greeted by a sleek piano, gilded frames, and various mirrors tucked here and there. After taking a moment to absorb our surroundings, we sidled up to the bar and were greeted by a sprightly barkeep with a strong pour and a quiet smile. Seeing that he was the only person manning the entire bar, I was a bit in awe that the barkeep was able to keep pace with all the orders, all the while routinely putting coasters under the drinks to preserve the glossy wood bar. Leaning against the bar, I found the scene at the Back Door Lounge to be soothing. The atmosphere was dark and sultry and the old time crooners floating from the jukebox seemed to placate the masses. Besides the large bar counter surrounded by velvet flocked toile wallpaper, there are also deep booths to slide in and out of, as well as an upper level where couples can engage in a quiet tete-a-tete. We were advised that the Back Door Lounge can get a bit raucous when the lounge singer is in full effect; however, the night we were there it was much more subdued. Probably not a locale I'd frequent but I did enjoy my sojourn there.

547 L St, Sacramento, CA 95814, (916) 441-7963

"Where the $%^*#@ is this place?" I think were the words that I muttered under my breathe last Thursday when my friend Lacy and I began our trek from the Downtown Plaza parking garage in search of the Pre-Flite. Ever since a fellow friend mentioned it in passing once, I've had a desire to visit this mysterious subterranean watering hole that used to be the spot for airport travelers waiting to catch the shuttle. (I know, I'm a bit odd) Luckily, for us we ran into some friends of Lacy's on the street that were just leaving the lounge. I think they took pity on us and that's why they offered to show us where this place was squirreled away.

Walking into the Pre-Flite is like taking a step back in history. Ever see that show "Quantum Leap?" Yep, a step back like that---far back in history. The bar is small but divided into two levels, the walls are adorned with fun, kitschy memorabilia and the lounge has that dim lighting that only those who have visited Vegas can relate to... lighting that makes it difficult to ascertain whether it's 8am or 8pm while knocking back a few. Additionally, the bartender immediately won my heart over when I requested my standard -Jack on the Rocks. Instead of giving me a quizzical "But you're a girl!" look that my order usually elicits, the barkeep gave me a friendly smile and remarked, "You're my type of girl." Between him, the feisty Jack Russell (Lou) that was bounding about and the cocktail waitress that was an absolute doll, I felt immediately at home.


Pre-Flite will never be the hot spot in the grid nor will it ever be the latest meatmarket locationand for that I'm thankful for. The obscure little bar in the midst of the concrete jungle is the perfect spot to duck into for some tasty grog and good conversation when you just "need to get away."

1815 10th St, Sacramento, CA 95814, (916) 442-0693

I've always been a dive bar girl. Give me a beer and a shot in some hole in the wall joint over some glitzed up LA wanna-be club any day...unless that dive bar is the Elixir. After grabbing some fresh air at the Concert in the Park, a few of us Yelpers and Yelpers-by-association made plans to meet up at this rat's nest, figuring it's proximity to Old I would give us the option to head there to check out a few bands if the mood struck.

First off, if a bar is going to partake in some sort of cheesy gimmick like "Friday's Ladies Night 2-for-1," then honor it for chrissakes. It appeared that if you ordered from the guy bartender (who was very pleasant), you got your 2-for-1 (it didn't matter if it was a well, call or top shelf); but if you ordered from the surly female bartender (if one hates their job that much, maybe they should find a new occupation?) you were advised that the 2-for-1 did not apply. WTF? Isn't that false advertising?

Second, when people drink alcohol, they pee. It's a fact. So, take some of your earnings and fix the damn bathroom so it's at least one step up from disgusting. I had sandals on and was pretty appalled to go in there. First time round, a random fellow patron was nice enough to let me use the men's room since there was a line. He had to hold the door closed for me as the lock didn't work. Also, for your chafing pleasure there was no TP, paper towels only. I guess they're just looking to create plumbing issues. The ladies room later on wasn't much better. In addition, to being decorated by giant holes in the wall (what did someone try to kick their way out of there?), there was a puddle of urine on the floor and no soap.

So if you're looking to get some attitude or a bout of staph from the nasty restrooms, this is your place. Otherwise, there's much better places in the grid to check out.

1539 Folsom St, San Francisco, CA 94103, (415) 431-1661

After catching a show at Slim's, we ducked into Wish for a nightcap. Wish is a bit small and narrow but radiates a come hither attitude with its sultry red walls and flickering tealights. The crowd on the night we visited was a bit diverse, there were couples whispering sweet nothings with their heads tilted together at the bar, girls shakin' their junk to the DJ that was spinning in the back and clusters of friends kicking it on the couch while knocking back a drink or two... or five. The bartenders were courteous, drinks priced reasonably (and were served in proper glassware, not plastic cups) and the bouncer was quite polite and chivalrous. I also loved that they had handbag hooks under the counter, so that you could have both hands free to get your drink on--- ingenious!

The laid back vibe and sexy atmosphere made me a bit mischievous, good thing my alcohol consumption was regulated as I needed to drive later that night. My only "wish" was that we weren't subjected to the rank wave of patchouli incense and BO when we first walked in. It eventually dissipated, but good god!

410 Market St, San Diego, CA 92101, (619) 235-4668

The ex and I visited Hooters during our last jaunt to San Diego's Gaslamp Quarter. It was that time of the day between lunch and dinner where not much was open. He was fussing to watch some ESPN and I needed to eat something to tide me over until dinner (the pretzels on the Southwest flight, just didn't cut it). I'll admit I wasn't forced to go in (no arm twisting), but I was a bit curious to see what all the hype was about. I pictured something trashy with slithering pole dancers and Whitesnake blaring, but in reality it was just a tackily decorated beer-n-wings joint with extremely unflattering, polyester uniforms that looked like they would chafe (what's with the suntan colored pantyhose under the hideous, Bozo orange boy briefs?).

We had two waitresses during our visit. Our first waitress, Jackie, was super cool and chatty. Turns out that she was from Vacaville and we launched into a full scale conversation about the Vacaville outlets, much to the ex's chagrin. When I decided to purchase a tee for my teenage nephew, she rallied the other wait staff to each sign the shirt. I'm sure my sister-in-law in New Mexico appreciated the fact that we presented our 15 year old, hormone-infused nephew with a tee that was emblazoned with phrases such as "Randy, you make me randy!" and signed by a dozen busty Hooter girls; but screw her, our nephew loved it and dubbed me the coolest aunt ev-ah! Teenage boys are an odd breed.

Since we caught Jackie on the tail end of her shift, we were traded off to a second Hooterette for the latter part of the service. This 5'2, buck o'five weighing (all boob) nymph came bouncing over to introduce herself and chirps that she heard we were from Sac...well, guess what? She is too. We chat about Sac a bit and it turns out she and I went to the same high school. She throws me a sugary smile and cheerfully announces that she graduated in something like 2002 and maybe we know some of the same people? I choke on my beer, glare over the chicken strips and think darkly, "Yeah, maybe I went to school with your MOM!" The ex is smirking as he quietly turns his chair to watch the ball game.

Final tally: +1 star for the clean interior, average beer and the place not being as vulgar as I thought it'd be, +1 star for our cool waitress Jackie and no stars for the greasy chicken strips. I, however, deserve 5 stars for not reaching over and throttling that 21 yr old Hoot-chie for making me feel older than dirt.

2301 Folsom St, San Francisco, CA 94110, (415) 282-4663

John Wayne was once quoted as saying, "I never trust a man that doesn't drink." I think the Duke would have felt right at home at Homestead, as every patron had at least one drink in hand.

On a recent social call to SF, we ended up here; which turned out to be a perfect choice for knocking back a few rounds while waiting for the stragglers to meet up. The bar wasn't too crowded during our visit and we were able to grab a table by the window. Drinks prices were reasonable and the pours fair. The bartender that I ordered from was friendly and had no issue when I had to bring a drink back for correction (it was my bad, my friend wanted a vodka & tonic, I ordered a vodka rocks). Although he did raise an amused eyebrow when I confirmed that the Knob Creek shot was for me. Hmmm...do I not look like your typical whiskey imbiber?

The atmosphere was mellow and the crowd ranged from hipster, indie to a little WT. Everyone seemed laid back and to be enjoying the mellow vibe. Homestead's definitely not a meat market, more of a nice neighborhood watering hole to gather with friends and shoot the sh*t. The decor is reminiscent of early western saloons and it makes no qualms about being a bit divey (part of its charm). Also, there's a nice warm fireplace to gather around should you incur a chill or find a cute gunslinger to converse with.

Definitely a place that I'd like to give another whirl.

801 14th St, Sacramento, CA 95814, (916) 441-3000

Color me completely unimpressed. It took a lengthy amount of time to get our party seated, although the place was relatively empty, and then we were placed at two pub tables back to back which made holding conversations awkward.

Our server was a bit odd in the sense that when I tried to place my food order with my drink order, I was snippily reprimanded, "We're only doing drinks, right now!" That's what I was told but then she took food AND drink orders from our other table. Hmmm, be consistent wouldjya?

We were at a brewery, so I wasn't expecting five star cuisine but the food was not good. What's the level below "meh..."?

I had a hankering for fries, so I opted for the fish & chips. The fried fish was shaped oddly and vaguely had a freezer burn taste to it. After one bite, I was done with it. The "classic pub" fries were ok, but a little on the soggy side. Definitely edible though.

Our server disappeared a lot which made ordering another drink difficult and we had to hit up the hostess for the bill at departure time.

As I had "broken the seal," after drinking half of my first beer (and the fact that I have a bladder the size of a pea), I got to make a few trips down the lengthy green hallway to the WC. The kitchen staff you pass as you head there is very friendly and chatty (unlike our server) and jokingly advised that one more pass by & they'd charge me a toll.

Anyhow, I am giving BIU two stars, the Doppelbock was actually pretty good. It wasn't too heavy and had a clean, malty (almost cocoa-y?) finish. Probably not the best stout I've ever had but I liked it. If my local Safeway or BevMo carried it, I'd probably pick it up but I highly doubt that I'll be popping into BIU for a Part Deux.