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Tucked away in a residential neighborhood, Lawrence residence of all stripes (yes that includes some college kids, but the type of college kids who are already wise to the qualities of a fine dive bar) flock to Louise's for foosball, cheap schooners of beer, and plenty of jerky behind the bar, because you need protein to drink more schooners.
But one American drinking institution that will never change is the humble dive bar, that dark, dank, slightly disreputable den of sin where ancient old men and wily young pool sharks come together under the banner of stiff drinks, good company, and a moderate amount of danger.For real, you can probably see this place from space... The place truly achieved dive status in the '80s, catering to a rougher crowd before being hacked in half as one side was transformed into a high-end whiskey bar.But like an alpha worm, the half-runt that is Roger's still thrives on its dirtbag charms in its halved form, a nicotine-stained nook lit by old neon signs and populated with faded football posters, cheap beer, pool tables, shuffleboard, and that ancient graffiti that tells the tales the battered stools simply can't.With condos encroaching on its space, the place got saved by Oakland's Landmarks Preservation Advisory Board, then was straight-up loaded onto a trailer and moved down the street. Hell, if we didn't know better, we'd think that some of the patrons never even got up from their seats as the building was moved.And if they did, it was the first time that it happened in decades.