Most childhood memories don’t involve bars. But some do.
Unlike some of my friends who made regular treks to the bar with their parents and grandparents, I didn’t spend much time perched on a stool until I was 21. My stomping grounds were the bar parking lots, since walking from my Westminster home to Shaw Heights Middle School meant trekking over the cracked, weed-sprouting concrete in front of Davie’s Locker and Shaw Heights Liquor.
While we would sometimes buy Yoo-hoo at the liquor store, we never got up the courage to bust into Davie’s Locker (8845 Lowell Blvd., 303-429-0096), which was a small fortress that encapsulated everything we shouldn’t be doing in the seventh grade. Since then I’ve often wondered about the mysterious bar, which looks even more run-down now that it’s surrounded by new houses.
But as I’ve made a hobby of finding random and out-of-the-way bars – just ask the regulars at El Latino Cantina in Greeley, who were dumbfounded when we showed up after three dirty days of camping – Davie’s has long been on my mind.
After having dinner with family in Westminster last week, my sister and I decided that it was time, and that our mom was coming with us. It didn’t take much convincing, but as we stood on the bar’s stoop, even with my mom at my side, I still felt devious.
Once we were inside, though, it was like any old dive bar – spacious and a bit awkwardly planned. Neon dominated the place, and the semi-friendly service made us laugh. Less than 10 minutes inside, and I decided I was like Grover in that book, “The Monster at the End of This Book.” Of course, this was your everyday bar, with the typical lineup of beer, wine and cocktails. It’s in Westminster, for heaven’s sake.
About 20 minutes in, a guy approached my sister, and after a moment of 30s senility she recognized him as Tommy, her old buddy from her own Shaw Heights Middle School days. They talked, caught up, and so the circle was closed.
Staff writer Ricardo Baca can be reached at 303-820-1394 or rbaca@denverpost.com.
Funky: Word in the ‘burbs says Friday nights at Davie’s are hot. (At least the parking lot is packed.)
Skunky: The beauty of most dives is the friendly service, but this place doesn’t fit the bill.
