St Charles Bar & Tavern

This was one of the first bars we visited upon arrival to New Orleans. Whaaaat? You didn’t go to Bourbon St??? We did eventually and I hated it btw.
St. Charles looked somewhat chill and empty so we checked it out. The owner immediately treated us like regulars and invited us to a private party they were having on Sunday. She is so nice, she’s even nice to the bums! One night a bum walked in asking for vodka and she gave him water.
We went back every single day of our trip and got to meet all three bartenders that worked there. They all told us of different non-​touristy neighborhoods to check out. They have great weekly specials, stiff drinks, local beer, and every so often they will do some kind of cook-​off. This bar carries the Old New Orleans cajun spiced rum so that was a plus! This place has been in existence for decades and passed down to different members of the family. We will definitely be back next time we visit the NOLA. WHO DAT!

This is a seedy dive bar with a host of interesting characters always inhabiting it. I only end up here after Wednesdays on the Square and I’ve got a limited tolerance for it as it gets so smokey inside. They have a really LONG bar and the space is just a long narrow rectangle so that where the bar ends the billiards begin. This place typically has quick service and you can usually find a bar stool. It has a feeling like you’ve gotten trapped in the 1970’s and you might not ever make it back…

We went here on Christmas Eve while killing time before a dinner reservation, and it was a very enjoyable experience. The drinks are reasonably priced and they have a lot of domestic beers for very cheap prices. They had a handful of craft beers available as well, also for decent prices. The bartenders gave us some free liqueur to sample as well, which was great.
All in all a nice experience, somewhere cheap and relaxing in an otherwise expensive looking avenue.

This place is definitely for the locals. I could never suggest this joint to a tourist and you’re not going to find it ranked high In Zagat, either. This place is so small and such a dive, I didn’t even know it was there until I wandered in with a group of friends. Yeah, there’s a story comin’ so sit back and enjoy the tale of «Shocking at St. Charles Bar»…
It was a fair Thursday evening with my friends hanging out in The District, enjoying laughs and good drinks. After some time, the good patrons of The District began to peel off and my friends suggested we head elsewhere. Well, why not? I felt like I was game for anything that night. I shouldn’t have been. I should have known that there would be something chilling just waiting to occur that day. There was a red sky that morning and the barometric pressure had been rising all afternoon. As we had navigated the streets before sundown, I noticed the vultures circling above. Something wasn’t right. As nightfall draped us in its very being, our resistance was futile. We would soon meet the folly of our ways.
As we ventured out of The District, my friends suggested grabbing a frozen margarita from Tomasito’s before they closed. We arrived just in time, got our margaritas and headed down the block. I intended to go home but my friends pressed me: «C’mon, you’re not going to head home already, are you? One more drink! Don’t be a p***y!» It was a work night for me but I decided I would brave any obstacles or individuals who stood before me in my quest for late-​night drinks! However, my fate ahead would be more perilous than an unrighteous being removing the sword of Uther Pendragon from the stone. The choice destination had become The St. Charles Bar.
When we arrived in the bar, we were the only ones in there. The time was about midnight. The local ghouls had not infested the place yet so we were free for the time being. The joint was such a dive, I immediately asked the bartender to put two shots of Patron Silver in my margarita to help me get past the surroundings. After about 20 minutes, some night creatures entered the bar. First, a man and a woman. The man was dressed in full leather biker garb and the woman, jeans and a tie-​dye shirt. They began chain smoking like a steam engine and talking loudly about this being their first time in the city. In an oblivious manner, a couple of loud noises seemed to erupt from the two individuals. My friends and I all immediately turned in their direction. The woman was yelling and laughing at the man, who apparently farted on the stool. I actually had never heard a noise like that so loud. The guy laughed about it, as well, saying it was all that «Cajun seasoning y’all put in the food down here!» Over the course of the next hour, the man continued to bombard the poor, single female bartender and the bar’s customers with a startling array of highly audible flatulence that quite possibly created a new tear in the Ozone Layer. He never ceased.
Later, another group poured in, this time a few younger customers. There was a girl and about 4 guys. Two of the guys stayed near the far end of the bar while the other two men ventured to our end. They went to the back restroom together and came out some time later and immediately went to the jukebox. These guys had the WORST taste in 80s music I’ve ever heard! They were queuing up anything from Flock of Seagulls to Belinda Carlisle’s «Heaven is a Place on Earth» to Foreigner’s «I Want to Know What Love Is». I’m not kidding, it was the WORST musical lineup I’ve heard since TimeLife’s «Classics» late-​night infomercials. You know the ones, where it’s like 3 AM and you’re sitting in front of the TV with one sock on, brain not even registering and a couple of burnouts from ‘Air Supply’ in tracksuits are trying to sell cassettes. You’re not even really a brain at that point. More like just a TV remote and a spinal cord. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t spin up «99 Red Balloons»!!
Eventually, the guys were dancing all around the jukebox, hugging each other and slapping each other on the ass and screaming out. The other two guys went over and started hugging on them while two were making out. At some point, one of the guys tied his shirt in a knot in the front and was prancing around like a pixie. Later, I’d say around 1:30-ish, some construction guys came in. They looked wasted. I went into the restroom and it was a wreck. Someone had thrown up and missed badly, getting more on the wall than the bowl. The door didn’t close properly and one of the construction guys tried to come in on me, crying out «but I gotta’ pee, like, right now!» One of my friends told me later that he walked in the restroom and the construction guy was straddling the toilet, just spewing like a geyser.
The bartender girl was nice enough and for her alone, I would go just to hang out. Use this place with caution because of the freaks.

average bar

I stopped here to use the bathroom. What a dump and they charge us $ 8 for a vodka and cranberry, which was mostly cranberry. Whatever, next time I’ll be more selective on my bathroom pit stops!

This place was next door to our hotel and open 24 hours and therefore became a late night stop on our way back each night of our stay. While the place smells funny and is definitely on the dingy side, the food was good and we had an awesome bartender that was part of what kept us coming back. Contrary to other reviews. she was really friendly and helpful and definitely made us feel welcome. I’d definitely go back in future visits.

If you are REALLY tanked this may be the place for you. service is as sketchy as the neighborhood at night and the food is better the drunker you are. get my drift?

The food ain’t good and neither is the staff. Filled with cops and EMTs, too. So why do I keep going back?

The waitresses her are always drunk, unkempt, or otherwise icky. I’ve had some good eggs here a time or two, but only when Trolley Stop is too crowded and everything else is already closed.

24 hours and all of them greasy. The all-​you-​can-​eat crabs can be a good thing when they have them.