When an unfamiliar face walks into this north Minneapolis bar, one of two things has happened: Either this person is lost, or a great dive bar is found. Maybe both. Here, in the last 3.2 bar still standing in Minneapolis, patrons gulp easy-drinkin’ brews from giant frosty mugs, which bartenders kindly keep cold in the freezer. It’s a thoughtful touch, and an unexpected one in a joint where you wouldn’t expect the staff to do much beyond wiping the bar, changing the channel, or sliding in a Heggie’s. (Frills? T-Shoppe barely even has lights.) Never been? Don’t fear the unknown. Your money spends here, and patrons like fresh faces. On a recent night, one regular waved and shouted, “Last real dive bar in Minneapolis!” to a table of newcomers as he made for the door. This was his way of inviting them to return. If they have any sense, they will.
Readers’ Choice: Grumpy’s Northeast