Moe's Tavern

Social media platforms have obscene and decency restrictions when posting material. Maybe that’s why they take down anything that has to do with Moe’s Tavern.

Moe’s has tried to be cool. Among its many facelifts the most memorable are a family restaurant and a gay bar. Even the bands Aerosmith and R.E.M. did sets to liven things up. Nothing worked and the tavern still sits on the corner of 57 Walnut in Springfield, Oregon like the kid that no one wants on their team.

So how does a place like this exist throughout the years?

With a corrupt mayor in place, all business is done under-the-table and let’s Moe’s abide by its own laws and rules. No one checks your ID. Regular inventory is never taken. The backroom contains many miscellaneous activities and kegs much older than their 3-month shelf life. The double barrel shotgun under-the-counter plays both bouncer and security system.

Moe’s serves only one type of booze and that’s beer. Never served cold, in a mug that might look frosted from the accumulation of dust, it tastes like warm yellow piss or a combination of wretched stomach bile and old cardboard. Both are equally addictive.

Filled with the reek of puke, piss, and desperation, if Charles Bukowski were still alive, he’d fall in love with Moe’s. There’s no pretense. Six locals sit at the bar. A lopsided pool table behind them. Drinking hour starts when the roosters crow and ends when the blacked-out drunks wake up from their stupor and do it all over again. Customers are rarely cut-off and the owner knows his regulars through and through. The owner himself is more entertaining than the bands that visit. It comes with the territory when the zipcode of your business address spells boobs.

So why are we giving Moe’s a 5-star review? We wish it was for the free beers, but that will never happen. Though Moe’s is deeply flawed deep down the owner has a good heart and his establishment should be kept as a working institution.






ATMOSPHERE: Sorrowful blue and no collar men find solace in a haven where they feel safer than going to church.

SERVICE: If you have money, you’ll get served. If you don’t, you’ll get thrown out.

SOUND LEVEL: Depends on the patrons level of intoxications. The owner at times goes on tirades over the phone with prank callers.


DRINKS: Duff Beer

PRICES: Owners rules. Usually, it’s $2, but we’ve seen it marked way up.

OPEN: Every day except Wednesdays.



Wi-Fi: What’s Wi-Fi?

Restrooms: Broken

Smoking: Yes

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