Pop Inn

i absolutely love this place. HUGE, renovation done! it’s packed and good music. I would say this is the new HOT SPOT of Alameda.
It is called «CHUCKWOOD»

The CHURCHWARD!, The Bar! — Alameda California!
Once again my husband introduced me to another cool place to watch sports, drink socialize and have fun after one of my shoe expeditions in Alameda. For the safety of his mental health he finds refuge watching sports on television. After finishing my exploring of the shoe selection in Alameda, I headed to meet my husband. I thought this would be one of those places where sports lovers goes to shout at the television as if they are in the game. Once there, I found it an easy fun place to mix mingle, watch favorite sporting events, play pool, talk silliness to your neighbor, drink homemade concoctions, listen and tell good jokes. I had a blast!
I figured this looks like a good enough bar to stop and have few! Good neighborhood. Why not stay a while? And I did! Chuchwald Bar on 1515 Park in Alameda.
The Bartender at Churchwalds name is Jimmy; Jimmy-​the-​Bartender as i end up calling him he rest of the night. Jimmy was very generous with the drinks and his introduction of new, fun and exciting drinks made me promise … promise … i forget what i… Plus, he has an extensive joke repertoire! Jimmy is the kind of guy who enjoys the slow moments of life; he likes for customers to sit and stay a while and drink a whole lot! He gets a kick watching you enjoy yourselves. He and his young «bartender protégé» are always thinking of new «cocktail concoctions» to offer his guest. And I was that guest!
The one I was offered was called the «Bazooka-​Joe Martini.» One of the main ingred spiced vodkas –it was marvelous! I think, in another time and place, Jimmy-​the-​bartender could have been «Thee» Bartender for the Rack Pack. For real, jimmy is that cool.

Confidentially, I was told to try CHURCHwald on Wednesday nights. THEY say it one of the busiest places where the college crowd meets and the right place to meet new friends and revisit old ones!
I’m going back! and this time without my husband! lol

I miss you and your sleazy walls of bizarre clown pics and your porn claw machine. singing Karaōke with toothless wonders…
I hear you are getting the full over haul, I walked by and saw those gutted walls. I hear you are gonna be a sexy thang when you are done… I just hope you are still a slut… luv ya.

Yeah, they re-​did this place and it is much nicer, but how come whenever I come in to the new and improved Pop Inn I pine for the days of the old Pop Inn. You know, before it was de-​crackified.
How can all the improvements make me yearn for something that I gave two stars in the first place? Could it be the new crowd?

Last year, the Pop Inn would’ve gotten an instant 5 stars from me. Since the change in ownership, however, some alterations have been made that definitely detract from the awesomeness of the place.
Pop Inn ’08 was everything you wanted a crazy Alameda dive bar to be: too brightly lit, showing all the townies in their creepy glory, full of random accents like the five Spuds MacKenzie dog lights above the doorway and the enviable claw machine game with the Teeny Blonds With Teeny Titties porno dvd inside, and everyone’s favorite island karaōke MC rocking the mic Mondays and Tuesdays.
Now, you walk into the Pop Inn and there’s still the crazy diveyness, but something’s missing. The lights are dimmer, the claw machine is gone (say it isn’t so!) and there’s a row of weird, pseudo-​chi-​chi candle holders on the wall. Who’s Pop Inn is this?
It seems there’s a trend on Park Street toward swanking things up, but the owners of the Pop Inn need to realize that the reasons behind all their four-​star reviews are exactly the things they are in the process of ruining.
We LIKE the diveyness!
We LIKE the crazy townies!
And we LOVED the random claw machine!
If you get rid of those things, what’s the point? No one’s ever gonna come to the Pop Inn because it’s a fancy, nice place to take a special lady friend or have drinks with your future in-​laws. That isn’t the deal here. What you want from the Pop Inn are cheap drinks, loud karaōke, and a garrish lack of style and swank like no other bar can offer. Please, new owner, don’t mess with a good thing…

*****Things That Currently Need Improving:*****
~ The Whole BART System (Their night/​weekend schedule IS THE WORST and their ticketing system is atrocious!)
~ Mariah Carey’s current voice (THERE! I ADMIT IT!!)
~ iPhone (Why can’t I send you picture texts??? That is the simplest and most basic of cell phone purposes???)
~ Grey’s Anatomy (This show has been on a steady decline since «Gizzie» and, really, Denny The Ghost? Sadie??? Callie’s new haircut AND sexual orientation???)
.
*****Things That Do NOT And Will NEVER Need Any Improvements:*****
~ Aretha Franklin’s Chuuch Hat (It’s like a beautiful Blueberry Princess Cake on top of a beautiful Chocolate Mocha Velvet Cake!!!)
~ The Midnight Train To Georgia (Because LA… proved too much for the man…)
~ Taiwanese Popcorn Chicken at Quickley’s (If I was deathly allergic to this, I would still eat it.)
~ The Definite version of «At Last» as interpreted by Etta James (STFU Beyonce!!!)
and what’s most importantly…
~ Pop Inn (IT WASN’T BROKE SO WHY DID YOU FIX IT???)
.
Seriously —
A bouncer? At a dive bar? In Alameda???
Wall sconces? At a dive bar? In Alameda???
Douchey bartenders? At a dive bar? In Alameda???
The TV blaring a sports game DURING KARAOKE? At The Pop Inn???
Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Pop Inn, but things just ain’t the same.
And this review? Hurts me more than it hurts you.

Pop Inn, then Pop right back out.
We were there supporting Gwen and Chad since he was DJing 80’s music that night. He was great, crazy wig and all! The bartender a busy man and was cool too. Drink prices were pretty good .
Rumor has it, there was a remodel and it hasn’t been the same since. Mrs N sure seemed to think so. It didn’t look like there was any remodeling to me, unless paint, carpet, and wall sconces are now all you need. Maybe it was just an off night, but the there was drunken prick vibe going. A bunch of tug boat crew members were down from Washington, and almost all of them had too much to drink by 9pm. I ended up wearing some of one guys beer. Not Pop’s fault, but that was my night. However, the «owner» bumped into me as he walked by with his tray of whatever and told me «heads up». Now I had simply stood up at my stool and he walked by me and hit my elbow. As far as I’m concerned, he can cram his dive bar. I could complain and detail a few more things, but there’s no real need.
Feels like Pop had something then messed with it. I already had my reasons for not visiting. I have one more reason to probably not go back.

Did a man with Down Syndrome sing a Tom Jones song whilst dressed as Elvis while I was here?
Yes. Yes he did.

Joshua L was right, Tuesday night at the Karaōke night was alot of fun.
I went with my friend from Berkeley and she said had never heard of this place. I said what and said she only goes to this one place in Berkeley. I said they serve Pabst on tap and that alone is worth the visit.
We both wanted to sing a duet but the ticket line to sing was probably 25 to 35 deep. I heard old favorites like «These Boots are made for Walking, You lost that Loving Feeling and Killing me Softly with his Song». What no Sweet Caroline.
That dude William could sure dance to the rendition of «Proud Mary»
I’ll keep on coming back so I can howl on the microphone too!

Thy mystical, magical Pop Inn.
Line 50, turn right.
After being chastised on the bus by a sneezing woman (who was mad I wouldn’t open up the case and give her one of my cupcakes «because it was her birthday last week») we finally arrived on Park Street.
We walked. and walked.and walked. and realized that we shouldn’t still be walking. We approached a couple of young ladies, «Are you familiar with the Pop Inn?»
A huge smile beamed back at us *insert valley girl vibe*, «Totally.» She pointed us back in the direction from which we had just traveled.
Turns out we had made a left off of the bus. If we had made a right, we would have had to have taken less than 10 steps to get to Pop’s door.
The bartender keenly recognized the swirling winds of «Tuesday night Unilocal» that entered with our pizza & cupcakes. He started flying around the place, moving furniture, etc. like a 9 year old hopped up on Skittles & Red Bull.
Then it went down. He started pouring and the lights went out in Georgia.
Imagine this:
He Cheated and the Lovely Lady almost got Lumps. Hit Her Baby one more time. Raise your cell phones to the Wonder Wall because we can be Ebony and Ivory. I Believe I Can Fly with a feather Boa. Lucky Porn Star mustache. The Greatest Love Triangle of All. Last but not least — Yes, We Are the World.
You have to see it, to really believe it.

I would definitely call this the best dive bar in the East Bay.
Why?
Well, I’m partial to Alameda. I grew up part of my life here, from Fifth Grade to Ninth Grade. I got introduced to ‘clowning,’ ‘gettin’ clowned,’ hip hop, drive bys, Dream the phenomenal tagger who painted the biggest toy dog ever on the back board of Chipman Middle School. Seriously. I am down. Holla.
The South end, as the misnomered ‘Eastside,’ as everyone from Encinal HS called it, was another world. It wasn’t Oakland, it was more like a microcosm of some other seaside town that wasn’t down with E. 14^th. Yeah, my parents hauled ass away from the ‘Westside,’ since maybe we took this a little too seriously this nonsense…
Now as an adult, I have ventured back down to the Eastside and have found a haven of Cheese and breadsticks in the AM and in the PM to the break a break a dawn, the much overlooked little gem thrown in a gum wrapper called the Pop Inn.
Each time the rabblerowsers come and don the Chicken Hat you know you will have fun. Where else can you run around in a Zebra nightie like a floozie and sing your heart out like Chaka Khan???
Kurt, your MC, is a delight and makes this little place sparkle with life.
Barkeeps are just as awesome and can make you a mean drink.
Large song selection available to choose from everything from something my Filipina grandmother would love to the most rockin’ tunes.
AC/​DC!
Sing your sweet Caroline bootie to the wee hour and enjoy the Eastside, with a Guinness in one hand and a green foamed mic in the other. Just stay away on the Westside; we will fight for mic rights. You dig?

This will have to be a review in progress, because you can’t fit Pop Inn into a rectangular square.
It needs room to hit high notes, it needs room to don old chicken hats, it needs room to beat box, to shake it’s tambourine, to dance the electric slide, and more importantly it needs enough room to reach out and grab a sequined shoulder and hold it tight — as the whole room belts out «We are the Children.»
Your heart feels like it’s going to burst with love, when you’re in the Pop Inn. It’s real. True. Exciting. Unpredictable.
Kurt the Karaōke DJ at Pop Inn is brilliant. He harvests a sense of undeniable community, and makes everyone feel like a rockstar as they approach the mic. He’s always sporting some some sort of bling. He’s organized one of the biggest collections of Karaōke songs ever. He has the best assortment of random props; everything from clapping hands, to boas, to beer goggles, to maraccas. He knows everyone by name and their shtick. And he always, ALWAYS has something witty and on point to say afterwards The true heart of Pop Inn lies in Kurt. He’s epitomizes Cool, Genius, and Love.
No night at Pop Inn is ever the same. One night there will be a Miami Vice leathery skinned muscle guy in a tan blazer, making eyes around the room. Another night there’ll be scraggly red haired hipsters, already buzzed, and bouncing off the walls. And those are just newbies. The regulars are eccentric, warm, and just truly fabulous with their quirky ways.
No matter what Tuesday (Karaōke Night) you come to Pop Inn, you will always leave inspired, smiling, and touched. With their fast service, cheap drinks, history (one of the oldest bars in Alameda), and charm — Pop Inn just has a way of diving deep inside you and boogying so hard and down within your soul, that you’ll be glowing for days, and will sincerely never look at things quite the same.
Honestly.

The Pop Inn is the shiznit.
This is what a dive bar should be.
1. Cheap drinks (4.50 gin martini)
2. Fast service
3. Uneven floors
4. Karaōke
5. Porn in the claw machine.
6. Bar flys to remind you need to stop drinking at some point to avoid their fate.
This is one of the those «cheers» type places where you just feel at home.
To celebrate I will write a haiku poem
I love the Pop Inn
Bees Knees rocks that mike so hard
Porn in claw machine
–Keith Charles

The Pop Inn is as real as it gets, although you may think you’re being punk’d or have accidentally walked into some kind of David Lynch film. I challenge you to find another dive bar that has all of the following present AT THE SAME TIME:
* more local yokel bar flies than you can shake a stick at
* urban hipsters with phallic cheese platters
* MsBeesKnees singing karaōke
* ME signing up to sing karaōke
* grim bartender willing to sweat to make sure everyone gets a drink
* beers for $ 3.25 ($ 1 shots available with each beer purchase!)
* gay man in feather boa playing an inflatable guitar
* (I missed the 50-​cent porn, but I’m on it next time)
* cheesy décor
* one of the longest bars I’ve seen in a while
* rockabilly little person getting wheeled in in a shopping cart
* plenty o’ street parking
As my mom would say, «Hot damn.»

I swear by far this one of the best bars i been to.
I was here for the first time last night. I had an amazing time doing karaōke, me and my «Kikachu» felt so welcomed and I wanna thank Curt for giving me Heads up on Kakaoke night in Alameda. Patti is Kick ass, she so nice and warm hearted, I loved how she mixed me Woo-​Hoo (all vodka and a splash of cranberry with peach schnapps)
i will be returning

Gotta be honest here folks, the 5 stars for this place has EVERYTHING to do with the people. Patty, the bartender, who — actually I think HAS teeth it’s just that they’re real small-​like because of all the previous years of grinding them while on heavy drugs — is awesome and a tiger behind the bar.
Teri — some forty something actually tried to kiss me on the mouth after complimenting my teeth.
The guy I *almost* beat in pool had a ponytail, and when he shook my hand, nay kissed my hand after the game, I realized the dude had half a pointer finger, no doubt from a domestic dispute.
What pushed this shit over the edge was the William Shatner-​esque performance from dude singing while sitting at the bar. Loved it. That was the highlight of my night.
Well, wait — I guess that ties Bucky getting drunk tested on the way home after getting pulled over 36 feet from the bar. Or maybe the highlight was when JT picked out his favorite Playboy pic of a white girl bowling naked. Whatever other rumors have indicated, he definitely appreciates the white meat.
This should be duly noted… THERE IS A WIENERSCHNITZEL NEXT DOOR TO POP INN. Definite 5 stars for Pop Inn.

Karaōke has stolen my heart. Along with a man named Larry (but more on that later).
Yes, I have Japanese blood coursing through my veins and I’ve never ever been to Karaōke before this past Tuesday night.
The HORROR.
I had been warned. I had been told.
Once you hit Pop Inn, you’ll see life in a whole new light.
This ain’t no lie.
Joshua L. and I step up in this joint and I’m greeted by the most incredible KJ ever (see, I’m even down with karaōke lingo). The man is so friendly, super fly, and a stand-​up comic in disguise. This is Curt. Curt will rock your world.
Patty, bartendress extraordinaire, hit me up with bottle after bottle of Miller High Life, until I was feeling good enough to get up and duet none other than a Black Crowes number.
This shit is FUN!
Dancing with all the cool ass East Bay Unilocalers and of course, our little Larry.
Larry, Larry, Larry.
He bumps and grinds like nobody’s business.
And what about our wheel chair bound gentleman who suddenly felt inspired to get up and dance?
Miracles happen every single night at Pop Inn!
I like the costumes. Props. Stunna shades. Beer goggles. Rocker wigs. Tambourines. Feather boas. Fancy to be a drag queen? Why YES, you can be. At Pop Inn.
Pop Inn. This is where it’s at. Tuesday night’s.

Hanging out here the other night was a blast. The regulars of this establishment are quite and interesting group of people but all there had tons of fun.
Special shout out to the bartender! She likes to make em strong!
The KJ has a bit of trouble trying to give everyone a fair chance at the mic. It was quite a bit of time before I got to give it my all but I still had a good time.

Mixed drinks under $ 5…
50 cent grabby claw with PORN…
amazing feats of deep throat beer bottle swallowing by a girl named Pooper…
Down ass KJ that keeps the party going…
Spud’s Corner…
Hangover Square…
Free WiFi…
Drunkles everywhere…
Muffin tops galore…
People that actually cheer your horrible rendition of Backstreet Boys’ I Want It That Way…
and last but certainly not least… PATTY!!!

When you’re alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go — downtown… Alameda
When you’ve got worries, all the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know — downtown… Alameda
Yesterday, while lamenting about all the sorrows in my life my dear friend. Rachel G. bullied me out of my apartment with brass knuckles, promises of a warm car ride, and free drinks courtesy of one Mr. Peter «Spelling ain’t my middle name» Mmmmm.
I was thrown out of my pajamas, yelled into doing my makeup, tossed into a Lexus and driven to Alameda with declarations of «This will be great.» and «You’re going to love this!» and «Shut the fuck up and stop complaining, will you?»
Well, that Petula Clark sure knows her business. It seems she knew before I did that listening to your happiest, drunkest, and most soulful friends belt out the lyrics to such ballads as Gin and Juice, Pour Some Sugar on Me, and I’m all Right, is perhaps the most efficient cure to depression.
I had the blues before I stepped foot into Pop Inn, but the toothless drink maven, a superfly KJ who declares his love for his job after every song, and decrepit Raiders paraphernalia was enough to lift my spirits to a solid 8 ½.
It seems downtown Alameda, a dive bar featuring cougars with sequin baseball hats, and a gaggle of metrosexual men from the city are my miracle cure-​all.