Why is the patio at Primo's so popular?
Certainly there are nicer patios at places serving better food. So what's the attraction?
Results from last week, in which we asked what features make for a true dive. Several well thought through posts showed up in response--as well as one in haiku form from a "Handsome Lance Manion"...which, come to think of it, could have been an Eat This finalist, as well.
Anyway, through excerpts from our pool of responses, a fairly solid definition of "dive" emerges.
First of all, "if it's been designed at all, it's probably not a
dive." Or so says Luniz--and it's a good foundation for the other
criteria.
"And it must have that smell of old beer, old smoke, and old people.
You
wouldn't want your house to smell that way but you certainly want your
dive to smell of history and debauchery." A point made by TLS regarding
atmosphere and longevity. Unless you can find spray on old people
smell, it's nearly impossible for brand new places to earn dive status.
You know a dive by feel, adds thekingofcheap. "Dives have an intangible
quality that can't be easily defined," he explains. "Or, shortened:
Would you feel right taking your mother there for a drink? If not, then
it's probably a dive."
Probably wouldn't take mom the The Men's Club. But it doesn't match the
other criteria. A commenter named kYle adds features such as gravel
parking lots and broken locks on the toilet door. And the handsome
haiku guy's final five syllables harken back to smell and age: "Musty
leather booth."
That about sums it up.
