If I still went to bars with any sort of frequency, the Spitfire would be at the top of my list of regular haunts. The Spitfire is the kind of place that makes wanna-be dive bars wet their pants and crawl under their beds.
It's beat up and kind of dirty with cheap drinks and a great jukebox (if you're an aging punk like me). If bands are playing, it's too loud and you can never be sure what kind of mayhem might be about to happen. There's also the flagrant disregard for the the county-wide no smoking ordinance, which is a nice touch.
The bar reminds me of a long since razed hole in the wall I used to frequent, and the bathrooms remind me of Speak in Tongues. Those kinds of conditions usually scare off most folks, but for me it just feels like home.
The Spitfire is definitely not for everyone, but then again, neither am I.