This might be the coolest punk bar ever in time. Retro arcade games at the tables, a two-story claw, a 25-cent jukebox that features the bands of everybody in the neighborhood that you know, and $1.50 cans of beer. I'd spend half my life in this place if: a) I lived in Cleveland; and b) they weren't closing down in a month so that the owner can "reinvent the concept." Artists.
In any case, it's noisy and dirty and cheap and local and regular, like a punk-rock Cheers. Spitfire even features grammatically problematic signs explaining their refusal to carry AB-InBev products. If you've never been, you have until January 16th to correct this oversight and scratch something deeply essential off of your bucket list. It's the perfect dive.