Schooner Tavern

A unique relic that was likely cool 40 years ago, should have closed 20, and now is awesome living history.
A friend wanted to find a dive bar to go to. We were in the area and decided to go here. The building looks like they missed tearing it down to build a strip mall in the 90’s. We go in and order then see the «Cash Only» signs.
After ATM run. We sat at the bar while a band tuned up and the bartender watched an alien history channel show on the TV. The pool tables had players who brought their own sticks. The free self serve popcorn was fresh. The tap beer reminded me of stealing a sip from my dad as a kid.
Then the band start playing classic blues while a single old lady was dancing like no one was watching. We could not have asked for more.

Boyfriend takes me on a Friday night to see Javier & The Innocents. Armed security, dance floor, popcorn and a whole lotta entertainment.

Went for the music and became of fan of this local, historic bar. I love that they are committed to live music (with a stage, even!)…they served a decent mixed drink and had craft brew on tap. Pool tables, pull tabs, and a diverse crowd! What’s not to like?

I have seen some interesting people and scenes in here, but it’s not a museum. It’s a bar with pool tables, live music most nights, and free popcorn. Don’t sit at the table near the mens room and don’t ask the bartender to do anything fancy.

The two of us stopped by for the first time from the «burbs» to watch some Live Music which was great. The Band was complimented by a local air guitarrist insistant on helping play each song. It’s a damn shame that the «Bad Pennies» won’t be playing there on Sundays anymore. Room enough to take a spin on the dance floor. We played some pool and a couple tried to hussle us for drinks and Cash but when I ended up running the table they dissappeared. A regular watched the whole thing go down and bought us each a drink for putting them in thier place. The waitress gave us a head’s up about the two, and the locals were protective and welcoming. Yes, there were some shady characters, but they were more interesting than shady. Live and let live and just relax.
We opted out from just having frozen pizza from the bar. The waitress suggested the Asian restauarnt next door. After we ordered the food they were happy to walk it over to us at the bar.
Had a wonderful time with the regulars who made us feel welcome, but also let us have our own time if when we wanted it. We would go back, we own that pool table and we are still owed that drink for the pool hustlers. Good to break away from the trendy cookie cutter bars and get down and dirty.
Yay! I’m a fan!

This place is great, and horrid. When it’s nearly empty it can be a fun place to hang and shoot some pool. When busier it can be cool with live music and people-​watching, plus they have a nice big patio out back. The building itself is very old and the place has a lot of character and whatnot.
I guess I would agree with some other reviews, though, it can be a place where before you know it, you’re swept up into some scuffle or something, or have some crazy drunk mofo messin’ with you. The bartenders have been alternately cool and rude, it really depends on what day it is, what time it is, and perhaps their moods, etc. The place draws a wide range of people, so the diversity is definitely cool. I don’t know, perhaps it was built on a Native American burial mound or something, there’s some weird voodoo goin’ round at this joint. The fact that the only current photo on Unilocal shows the building as it was like 70 years ago is perfect.

i went here and put a dollar in the jukebox. some guy shouted «YO PLAY SOME R KELLY, DOGG!» i played Jay Z and he goes «AWWW YEAH!!» there’s popcorn too.

There’s nothing cute or ironic about this place. Our Pedal Pub stopped on here on a tour and we left shortly because the bartender was so rude. They apparently don’t care about you unless you’re one of their chronic alcoholics. Hopefully it’ll burn down soon.

There’s something special about the old, unchanged dive bars. The lingering smell of cigarettes, despite the smoking ban. The presence of real, working pay phones, the crazy chick at the bar who yells at nothing.
Granted, at almost any of them in the Twin Cities once you pass the hipster witching hour of 9:30, the place changes over to clusters of wide-​eyed Manic Pixie Dream Girls in knotted scarves and bearded boys in black framed glasses wearing knit caps from various third-​world cultures who’ve come to sing throwback country songs on karaōke night (special props to «Jake» from last night He had a great voice.)
But in the early evening, you can get a fairly cheap glass of beer, play a little bingo or shake-​a-​day and hover precariously in the cold and suspect bathroom.
The Schooner is the kind of place where Gertie remembers the drink order of every person in the place and the regulars punch each other in the arm as they grab their regular seat.
If you have writer’s block and need some character studies to jump-​start your Next Great American Novel, you’d probably do well to plant yourself here for a few days, order a few cans of what everyone else is drinking and eavesdrop on some stories.

While I enjoy going to low-​key bars, Schooner is just a real shi*t hole. And not in a good way. I tried to ignore the strange horse barn smell upon walking in — after all, the building is a hundred years old or something. In the end though, I couldn’t stop, however, from really hating this place.
I was Designated Driver that night, so I asked my boyfriend to get a club soda when he went up to the bar. He was charged a buck for the soda, and when my boyfriend told him it was for me because I was driving that night, the bartender responded, «We don’t have a fucking Designated Driver program here, son.»
It’s understandable that bars are interested in making money, even if it’s just another dollar. But in our particular group, three of four were already drinking. And most of the people seemed to be from the neighborhood, so they aren’t losing anything through supporting DD’s because most people were walking to the bar. I thought the bartender was just being a dick with his attitude.
The clincher for me was when we were smoking outside after playing a game of pool and talking up the victory that me and a friend just had. Some guy who had also come outside, and was sitting a ways from us. He ended up shouting at us with some level of hostility in his voice, about talking to his face if we wanted to say something. WTF?
I really wanted to like this bar. But everything was conspiring to make me hate it, so one for you, Schooner Tavern.