There are several elements to a good bar. A good bar must have an outdoor sitting area to enjoy the six days of nice weather we have each year. (Check.) Inside, the bar must be dark, for ambience and illicit hookups. (Check.) The waitstaff must be friendly but not fake, knowledgeable but not pushy. (Check.) The beer selection must be ample. (Check.) The clientele must have a median age above 29 but have enough pieces of 21-year-old male and female eye candy to make the view pleasant. (Check.) It must have good food. (Oh, sweet heaven, is that ever a check. The calamari, the fish and chips, the mussels, the cheese board...) And it must have a pub-like, worn-in feel. (Check.) That is the Old Monk. That's why it rules.

Sense
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You have to be on some sort of list to get into the place, which seems like nothing more than an appeal to snobbery in the extreme. Yet the list is not based on the patrons' net worth, on the cars they lease or on more ephemeral measures--such as "cool." Any resourceful person can maneuver his way into the exclusive club by working connections, placing a few calls, befriending the right bartender. By limiting entry to those who really wish to hang out there, Sense ensures a vibe unique to Dallas nightlife. People on the inside mingle and talk and flirt without regard to real-world status. The setting is pleasant, with low-slung leather seating and a pulse that facilitates rather than dominates conversation. As a result, young and old, gold diggers and suburbanites, trend-followers and common folk rub shoulders and even (gasp!) communicate as equals. A good bar makes you feel comfortable, and Sense is just a good bar.