Slims, St. Johns : Dive Bar Review

Wedged between buildings in the humble streets of St. Johns lies Slims. But don’t be intimidated by it’s lack of windows and bleak appearance from the outside, because as soon as you step through the door you become a part of a warm and familiar setting. A taste of old Portland like no other. The interior is adorned with a various array of dusty fixtures and quirky trinkets that make the eye wander. And if you're feeling less than entertained you can dig into your pockets for some loose change and try your hand at some pinball. Or a round of pool. You might even find yourself eavesdropping on the patrons who visit Slims regularly. Here the air is thick with chatter and gossip. A whole generation seemingly stumped by the woes of modern pop culture.

If your looking to get away from the yuppie infested bars with cocktails that can barely fill a dixie cup, then Slims might be the place for you. I mean seriously, the streets of downtown Portland have become riddled with California rejects. You know the type. Guys that wear Patagonia ball caps and drive around in suspiciously clean off-roaders. Give me a break. It’s worth mentioning that a meal here will satisfy any empty stomach. The cheesesteak was especially tasty. But when you crumple up your greasy napkin and push your plate aside the feelings of regret might begin to kick in. That’s right. You don’t just walk out of a place like this. You stumble. And if you’re real lucky, they’ll wheel you out on a stretcher. Sure, to the average bar goer Slims might come across as a forgettable scar in their liver. But to the regulars who call it home, it certainly is a special place.