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Taxes are stressful. If you owe a great big heap of earnings, there may be -- as the great Hank Williams once said -- a tear in your beer. (But at least you have a beer.) If you're one of the lucky ones getting a return, then do the charitable thing, and buy everyone shots.
Named after a Johnny Cash song, this ramshackle bar is so delightfully out of place on fancy west 5th. With creaky wooden floors, broken in (and/or broken) furniture, and a jug band/singer-songwriter/hillbilly music lineup, it draws an eclectic crowd almost every night of the week.
Perched above BurgerTex in what feels like a long, wooden, once-upon-a-time storage room, Barflys reliably serves up dirt cheap drinks and tunes from a quality, well-curated jukebox. This used to be metal head central, but now the crowd has mellowed out into a less aggressive bunch.
I met Pam Pritchard three years ago during one of Tipsy Texan's cocktail classes, when she handed me her card with a picture of a black and white tiger on the front. "I'm starting a pub, but one where you order cocktails, not just beer," she explained. Just a few months later, I found it on North Loop: The Tigress, a tiny, best-kept-secret of a bar, where each drink costs $7 and packs a mighty punch (just like, I imagine, how a real tigress might). Try Brown Sugar Snow: Rye whiskey, Averna Amaro, lemon juice, and brown sugar syrup.
