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| - Sometimes you wish God, oh just this once, would grant you the power to reach right through your computer screen and smack some doofus on the other side.
Well, I've come to make this request to a higher power.
The negative reviews about The Rusty Spur make my head swim like it would after a pull of Mezcal straight from the bottle.
This place is tip-fucking-top. You don't want to be pressured to tip the band? Then pay a cover. Would that make ya feel all better? No cover to enjoy a genuine Texas (read: "real") country band? Holy smokes, they will even do covers of Robert Earl Keen and Pat Green. Go to any other shite bar in the city and ask them if they know that.
The place is tiny, which lends to its charm. This place is STRAIGHT out of Luckenbach and these suburbanites don't even know the characteristics of an 'outlaw country' bar. Waylon and Willie would be proud of this place. Plus, they serve Shiner Bock in a bottle. Unreal.
The dance floor, which is a misnomer, more like a shuffle floor is absolutely legit in accordance with the rules of a Texas dance hall, except for the fact that you bump into tables instead of only other dancers. Go watch Urban Cowboy and tell me that you need your dance space. Get over it.
.... and .... AND! ... "Beans" in the chili? WTF? This ain't Canada. Hell, this aint even Ohio! Beans should NEVER disgrace a proper pot of chili. Jesus. What the reviewer who mentioned that has just informed me is that they make their chili proper. But I'd never know because I go in here to hoot n holler n get rowdy with the rest of the crowd ... drink a Shiner and dance a little two-step to Merle ... not stuff my face like a tourist. Christ.
I'm in no way a regular here, but this place is one of the very few legitimate country bars, not only in Phoenix, but worldwide. I've been in enough to know. It should be regarded very highly for its genre.
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