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| - The Loft is an ancient prototypical college dive: windowless, musty, filled with lacquered wooden booths (eerily shiny even in the half-light), blinking neon cig/alcohol signage, and weeklong $2.50 well drink specials of the watered down variety. A smog clogged foyer where a door person lurks with a peculiar yellow ID-scanning machine gives onto a bar that doesn't look like it has changed since 1975. The cheap drinks are probably the prime attraction as a shot of Jose Cuervo will set the thirsty patron back only a modest three bills. Loft also hosts karaoke on Wednesday night and the DJ is adequately verbose, capable of enlivening even the most lachrymose of midweek drinkers. Expect at least a few regulars with varying abilities to commandeer the mic, though newcomers are welcome and the songbook is nothing if not comprehensive (they even have TV Show jingles--one young man was heard jauntily shrieking his way through the theme to Gilligan's Island late in the evening). The bartenders are courteous and capable of making strong, tasty drinks like Moscow Mules should you request them in lieu of the $2.50 thimblefuls of gin. There is no food aside from the requisite column of dangling potato crisps and massive, staggering scoopfuls of shell-em-yourself peanuts from a fathomless barrel in the back. In sum, despite its faults, Loft attempts to be nothing but what it is: an affordable, wood-walled throwback, a time capsule made of gin and domestic pilsner pitchers. Worth a look for any dive enthusiast.
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