If you like neighborhood dive bars like me, then Hunter’s Pub is fabulous. In fact, I come here all the time. They normally don’t even ask me what I want. They just bring me a bucket of beer.

Just don’t expect something that the Hunter’s Pub is not. It is not a Houston cocktail bar. they can pour a highball, but don’t order a Manhattan. Trust me, I tried. Their vermouth was so old that it was full of gnats. Luckily, I noticed before I drank it. When a bar doesn’t use their sweet vermouth, you know it’s not that kind of place.

It’s not a restaurant, either. They will give you free, homemade chili with jalapenos, but there’s no menu to order from.

And thankfully, it isn’t a sports bar: there are plenty of TVs, but they are all quiet.

I’ve had a Presbyterian there (whiskey and ginger ale–you know, the Schwepps stuff), but I normally stick to buckets of Bud Light. That’s because the friend I usually go with only drinks Bud Light. But for $12 during happy hour, you can’t beat it. If I go with someone else, we will normally get a bucket of St. Arnold’s Amber, which is the best thing they have. Unless it’s during Christmas when they have the St. Arnold’s Christmas Ale, which is fanfreakintastic, trust me. A bucket is around $17. Totally worth it.

The best thing about Hunter’s Pub isn’t the drinks or the beer, though. Sure, it’s within stumbling distance of my house, which is awesome, but it’s also within stumbling distance of other people’s houses, too. Which means you get all sorts of people coming in there. Weird people will come and sit down with you. If you go there enough like I do, you will eventually meet crazy, sincere vets, loony wannabe martial artists, very drunk old women, interesting married women, and sobbing women who don’t want to go back to their boyfriend’s house. I have had conversations about people’s children going off to college, I have thanked a group of vets for their service and bought them a round, I have had a couple of married women buy me a few shots, I have had an old guy sitting at the bar alone buy me a shot of Glenfiddich 10 year, which the bar keeps just for him. Why did he buy me a shot? Because he heard me mention Scotch. I have had conversations about video games, about starting a business, about how all professors are commies and are destroying our country, and had to keep from getting in a fight when people made racist statements about our president.

My wife got hit on one time while I was in the bathroom, and I didn’t even know about it. I came back, and she was smiling. Turns out as soon as the guy came and started talking to her, my buddy who was there, told him, “Dude, she’s married.”

He protested, saying that he was just talking. My friend was having none of it.

“Dude, she’s fucking married, so get the fuck out of here!”

The guy left as I was coming back.

You see, Hunter’s Pub is a microcosm of life in Houston. It’s like a Petri dish. Put enough people in one place at one time, keep going back, and you will meet everyone, crazy and not.

In other words, I love the place and go there all the time.

Bucket of beer for under $15? Make it two.