My adventure mate and I were in the mood to scout divetastic bars in Woodside and came upon a sign right outside the 69th St station off the 7 called ’69 Bar.’ It was around Halloween time, and when leftover decorations are still up in a bar you aren’t familiar with you sometimes wonder. are these always up? Are these suppose to be regular decorations? Thats sort of the charm of dive bars, totally acceptable for to be decked out for every holiday all the time — but this one had brown paper crinkled up and spray painted red on the walls. bloody cave? Haunted creepy… ? Anyway, that’s sort of what we walked into, that and a bunch of ladies bar-tending with very, very, very short skirts on and googly eyed drunky pants men throwing down tips and kicking back brewskies. Our bartendress was Paula and she turned out to be a sweetie, did Columbian aguardiente shots with us and talked about living in/moving to America. It turned out to be quite an evening of beers, laughs, pool table envy, heart to hearts, probably a Seal/George Michael/Rod Stewart sing along. that’s what dives are all about.