NOW CLOSED...Formerly: I have seen many dive bars in my day, and I've even pub-crawled through a few. The genre covers everything from a quiet watering hole to deep, dark hole-in-the-wall. Lying behind a tiny taqueria, the Big Horse Lounge resembles something of a backroom bar in Mexico.
The look is best described as a basement (when in doubt, paint it red and black). Stuffing seeps from split stools under wobbly tables while a single makeshift "booth" cobbled together from spare parts lurks alone in the corner. Two black lights nailed to the wall completely miss the point of interior design, and a shiny, silver fringe fluttering above the bar stirs bad memories of hangovers from New Years long past.
Come in the afternoon and you'll find yourself alone, taking in Tejano or maybe the Gypsy Kings with owner Armando Enriquez. Band stickers mottle the ramshackle bar, put there by struggling groups of every stripe who have braved the Horse for little reason other than face time. Since the closet-sized stage only holds a few players, jumpier front men have been known to abandon it altogether, and wind up sweating, swaying and swaggering right up next to you.
The big draw at the Big Horse can be summed up in two words: cheap sauce. The music can be unpredictable, but $2 Pabst, $3-4 beers and $4 mixed drinks are always on the bill. Cuervo shots are the only special (not to mention the only tequila) at $2 each, and nothing comes on tap. The food up front is what you'd expect from your typical taco hut, but after four loud hours of pounding your liver into submission, it just might save your life.
Reviewed By: Michael Foreman
