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Category: Dive Bars
Neighborhood: Park SlopeBergen St (2, 3)
Atlantic Ave-Pacific St (2, 3, 4, 5, M, N, Q, W, R, B, D)
Lafayette Ave (C)
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There comes a time in every bartenders life when you see a bartender worth worshipping. There also comes a time in every bar-goers life where they see quite possibly the greatest bartender ever make you the best Tom Collins ever. That being said there lives a bartender here capable of blowing your mind over and over again with his drink making. Plus the 8 dollar price tag on a double in a pint glass ain't bad either.
Syd barret on the Juke Box?!
The conversation begins and ends with o'connors
This place is great
Still great. I hope getting R of the D won't change it into a faux/ironic/trendy dive bar. Although on the other hand, we dive bar protectionists have to take the bad with the good. The main thing is that this endangered species survives.
Great dive. Muy authentico - naugahyde booths, the whole nine. And safely tucked away in the… Read more »
Somewhere between the Pathmark and the Bank of America I had found myself totally lost in getting back to O' Connors. I wasn't too familiar with this area of Park Slope but it wasn't so much that as the fact that much of the previous few hours had been spent at the Patriot and Raccoon Lodge in Tribeca carelessly throwing whiskey and beer at my face.
Rather than embarass myself in front of new people and call them for directions I tried the next best thing: 411.
"What city and state please?"
"Brooklyn, N Why?"
"This is Brooklyn 411 how may I help you?"
I had gotten the first part but the next few rounds of questions would test my strength of mind.
"I need to know the name of the bar in Park Slope."
"Sure sir, no problem...what's the name of the bar?"
"Flannners.....O'Flannery's"
I can here her typing on the other end with a long pause and many hmmmmms as I rest my head next to an apartment talk box.
"There doesn't seem to be a bar by that....."
I hang up. Defeated I go into my phone's contact list and find "Lisa Yelp." "Molly Yelp" was too far down the list for my diminished hand/eye coordination so I had to make this one good.
"Hey where are you?"
"Lost....I'm lost. Where is this place? 411 didn't know"
"It's on Bergen and 5th"
I start walking up 5th....a few blocks north with the cell phone still at my ear though Lisa had hung up by then. There is that moment of time where it sounds as if everyone is talking to you as though you and they were underwater and you view them as though through a fish eye lens. It was in this state that I found myself as I strolled into O'Connors and took a stool between the two. I wanted to come here because I thought the place would be empty...the old man from the Yelp photo planted at the end table with an interchangeable generic pilsner close by but to my surprise it was heavy with people...their voices all collecting together to form one crackling hum in my brain cavity.
Words were exchanged between the three of us but I have yet to remember most of it as it was the witching hour and my mind is turned off like a computer in autosave mode. Lisa is helping me order a drink from the bartender...his white button down shirt tucked half in as he pours me a beer and Molly is scribbling in my note book.."Rats as pets = durty = dirty" and the chair is moving and I'm asking them to leave me alone at the bar as I talk about my sick friend in the hospital...my hand resting on my forhead.
And I awake in my bed, my contacts still in and a gatorade bottle half full with water by my bedside. 3 hours later I would check my texts to find inbox messages reading "I love cabs!" and "I'm home now, you should be too" while on the sent side are exclamations like "I'm home now!" and "Me too".
Text messages. Little documents of time for when you find yourself down, out, or lost in Brooklyn.
Education. Time. The atom bomb.
Apparently all of these things have been said to be "the great equalizer." But my friends, I can assure you that all of those things are wrong.
In actuality, it is cheap beer that is the great equalizer. And nothing embodies this concept more than O'Connor's, where old men who look like craggy characters out of George Jones songs sit alongside hipsters, both of whom are relatively happy about it. And let's face it -- there are few bars that suited both for a lazy Sunday afternoon and 2 a.m. on a Friday. But just to let you know, O'Connor's is that bar.
Bars that completely lack pretension? Also the great equalizer.
The bar stools are held together with duct tape, but the beer is cheap, the juke box is good, it's dark, it's never too crowded, and I've had plenty of weird great nights at this neighborhood institution.
This is a real dive. The kind of place I imagine you used to go to drink alone and talk to the bartenders and other customers, not the kind of trendy and hip dive bars that abound nowadays. It's dark and quiet; there's plenty of empty space. Drinks are cheap and good. What's not to love?
There are two kinds of people who don't own televisions in Park Slope. There's the sort that will preach to you (preferably via bumper sticker) about the box's emollient effects on the mind. And then there's the set who don't own TVs because the bar has 'em. These latter are a hardy few in Park Slope. You can run across them at O'Connor's on the early side, when the bar is still perfectly hospitable.
There remains a stream of regulars throughout service hours, but the later it gets, the more likely you are to run into and among the new breed of North Slopers. They outfit their children (and each other) in Hannah Andersen knits and they like Pilsner Urquell for reasons they can't really describe.
At all hours, drinks are cheap and the bartender is fabulous.
Don't you hate those bougey bars that are like "Oh, it's 4:00, we're going to close now" or "Oh, you can't smoke in here because of some law" or "Oh, you can't spread your herpes around our bathroom."
Yeah, O'Connors knows what's up.
O'Connors is like the hull of a ghost ship. Only murky green light comes through the window and even on a sunny afternoon it is dark and dank and old. I always expect to see those spooky blue ghost characters from the Haunted Mansion at Disney World sitting at the bar when I come in. One of the bartenders has Elvis hair. The booths will suck you in and not let you go for hours.
I have this problem where I get sentimentally attached to bars. I think it's the gentle blend of booze and my preexisting neurosis. Anyhow, this is the place where I met this dude, and we had one of those conversations where you realize you have the same sense of humor, and that he's gentlemanly enough to give you his coat outside because it's cold, and you both smoke (and no one even smokes anymore!) and you explain how much you think John McCain looks like David the Gnome, and he not only knows who David the Gnome is, he makes a joke about the fox, and you start to realize why you should stop dating people so much older than you, because sometimes all you wanna do is be able to talk to someone who knows who the fuck David the Fucking Gnome is. Then he talked about his girlfriend.
I still love this fucking place.
Its a very cosy bar. There is something very charming about this place because of how they don't try hard to be anything but a bar.
Its a bar, you can drink beer, play music if you want to, and there's a small TV where you can watch sports but the volume is low enough that you won't be bothered if you are not into sports.
I went outside, but came back in pretty quickly because I saw (and heard) many mice running around, but thats just part of the charm of this old bar.
first time i came into this bar I had only been around the neighborhood for about a week. went in to watch a game and have a beer.
At first the bartender was a little skeptical of me keeping his distance but hey i am a new face in a place that looks like people have their butts molded into the stools. LOL. anyhow i chatted it up with him to let him now i was new to the neighborhood and this is my kind of bar for those chill nights he was cool with it and became more social cheap booz chill people chill times. way cool for me
Total werewolf bar potential. See my J J Bubbles review, or speak with Andrew J. to find out.
The people in here were younger than I thought; but that doesn't mean they won't turn when the full moon is out.
It's dark, almost menacing, and with a few tables in the back and along the wall. The only real light comes from the bar itself. There, the bartender works swiftly, with his very small glasses, pours out exact shots for each liquor (there's a shot glass for every bottle of booze) and smashes a single dash of mixer (that's all there is room for). So wince away folks.
Guinness in a bottle, I guess, but the drinks are solidly cheap.
If you want a dive bar, this place is a one stop catch all with loads of character. Been around since 1931, at least that's what the sign says and I always believe signs. Plus, it just kinda feels a thousand years old.
There's not so much that really feels Irish about this spot, but they had my favorite pogues song on the jukebox & beer, so that's enough for me to count you in!
this is the place you go to when quite frankly you don't want to deal with anyone. there isn't loud house music blasting nor will you be forced to sit and listen to nonsense from hipsters who want to talk about how bad there roommates are or how the new Interpol album sucks
i love this place not because its cheap but because its REAL.
wooden stained bar top with really messed up stools a half ass-ed bathroom and BEER IN A BOTTLE served in champagne glasses.
to most people that isn't classy but to me... its comfortable and i love that!
def go to this place there are few spots like this ESPECIALLY on 5Th ave
both bartenders there are real funny guys who will call it how it is!
have fun
and please
DON'T FORGET TO TIP YOUR BARTENDERS
p.s
the pit out back is ideal for smoking and casual convo!
The changes in ownership have made it more comfortable. I have been going here for a long time. All the good attributes remain. New ones make the place better: backyard with picnic tables, food on the grill, baseball on TV and nice bartenders. No yuppies with strollers--still too grimey for them. Now there's just less chance of getting knifed by a hobo.
The best dive bar in Brooklyn. Open since prohibition era so it has its fair share of surly old men mixed with cool literary types who like to take their whiskey in dark taverns that scoff at the notion of smoking laws. Elliott Smith penned XO here while downing pints...he subsequently stabbed himself in the chest but don't let that deter you from patronizing this fine establishment. This weekend I exercized a rarely used muscle and camped out in one of their booths until the sun came up without even noticing the time. Ah to be twenty five again. Time stands still in this place and it's a beautiful thing. Have one for Elliott and toast the sunrise.
Been here twice (2002 and 2007) and it's a good place for drinking in general, good place for a nightcap. Nice to not deal with the hip bar thing in here which is what I'm always looking for.
This is a great bar. A great mix of the old and new Brooklyn will find all types here hipsters, artist, blue collar worker's, professionals, and stock brokers they have great prices no attitude and clean bathrooms
I walked into O'Connors for the first time in 2005 with a bunch of guys who I had been friendly with back when I lived in Madison, WI and we all breathed that sigh of relief.... "home". A dark bar with no pretentions, and plastic wrap on the bar stools. Bottled beers from $3-4.50 and a bartender who is less interested in white hipsters taking over Brooklyn than we are. Amazing
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