Henry’s Bar

I found out that Lisa is no longer there. I do not know why, but I will not go back now.
.

Dive bars, dance bars, hotel bars, mars bars, all serve their different purposes. Probably the crucial common element at a bar, for me, is the drink, preferably served strong, cheap and fast, or at least within a reasonable amount of time. Of course, environment is also important. You can find interesting people anywhere, but the only people that matter in terms of my review, are the ones behind the bar.
My friend and I left without a drink, after standing at the bar for awhile, leaning in trying to get the bartender’s attention, and watching people around us get served as they came up to the bar after us, some of them apparent old-​timers. I won’t say it was right or wrong, to some that is customer service — loyalty, but it just didn’t meet my criteria. Sorry, Vietnam vets and Linda. It wasn’t so busy that we could be easily overlooked, but we got the feeling newcomers were not welcome. I think as much as people may be quick to jump to conclusions about the clientele and what type of place this is, the people here do the same with those coming through its doors. It’s definitely a place for old friends and regulars. So this review really won’t make a difference.

Really good chill spot! Good drinks, nice staff! Real old fashion neighborhood bar feel! Would be 5 stars if the furniture wasn’t ran down!

My first visit to Henry’s Bar played out a bit like a turn by turn game:
You approach Henry’s Bar.
A wild oddball appears.
Oddball riddles your party: «Quick question: do either of you like porn?»
Run, or Dive into the weird?
(Sobriety level: already consumed a few magical potions.)
Dive into the weird.
«Yes I do!»
… and thus began a delightful hour of weirdness and drinks at Henry’s Bar.
Henry’s is a no-​frills dive bar. It’s dark, kinda dirty, and populated mostly with regulars. There’s a pool table and a jukebox. The drinks are stiff and cheap. The bartendress looks like she takes no shit and no shenanigans, and that made me feel more at ease among the oddballs. There was backpack porn peddler guy trying to meet his sales quota, an older dude with perma-​whiskey voice who said I looked like Celine Deon (or, in his words, «that Canadian lady Sasha Deon»), someone who was also watching The Dark Knight on the bar TV and trying to drunkenly argue that Christian Bale made an awful Batman (no, sir, just… no).
If you want a good buzz on the cheap and a colorful bar crowd for people-​watching, Henry’s seems like one of the best places in town.

Good location, good prices, and great service — three qualities I love in a bar and three qualities Henry’s has. A dive feel with a pool table and a jukebox full of countless musical treasures, Henry’s is a great spot for a midday break or an evening comedown. It’s connected to Capital City Café, so food can be conveniently ordered inside the bar. I’ve yet to try the food, but the menu is solid and I hear good things. I’ll report back with details once I try it. In the meantime, I recommend Henry’s as a good place to pop in and relax yourself.

Dive bar is an understatement. That being said it was awesome low key no hassles. Bartender was on the money with the service and cheap cocktails. the clientele was colorful to say the least but didn’t have any attitude for a non regular, it’s a locals bar for sure.

My band had just finished playing a show and we went looking for a dive bar. First we found «The Dive Bar», which is a freaking lie. Look it up on Unilocal.It’s the place with a mermaid tank and a line full of bro-​dudes waiting to grind some batches. I hope it has 1 star for having a name that’s a lie.
A few blocks later, we found Henry’s Bar. Now THIS is a dive! Cheap beers, jukebox with the best of butt rock, barflies with threadbare baseball caps, surly looking broad behind the bar pouring just the right amount of booze in your drink (hint: the right amount is a lot). That’s the kind of isn that makes a brother’s heart go warm. I loved this place and wished I could put it in my luggage and take it back home with me.

Definitely my kind of dive bar. The place is located in a dimly lit shopping center, inside the place is dingy, the bar and bar stools are old and sticky, and the bartender reminded me of one of Marge Simpson’s sisters. This place probably hasn’t seen a dust pan in ages but inside is still comfortable with a fun atmosphere. The drink pours here are HUGE. The drink prices are insanely cheap. 3 shots of Turkey and 2 beers for less than $ 15 is like 1960 prices. Everything else about Henry’s Bar is circa 1960 to 1970 too but that’s what we loved about it. Will definitely be back next time we’re in Sac.

The biggest shots I’ve ever seen in my life. $ 5 shots of jack is probably 3 – 4 shots worth. I honestly don’t know how this place makes any money, because that’s about as cheap as just buying a bottle yourself.
For how dingy the outside looks, the place is actually pretty clean. The clientele might be a little odd, with your usual assortment of dive bar drunks, old ladies and pool junkies, but they seemed friendly enough.
I don’t know if I’d want to spend my night at Henry’s, but it’s a great place to get the night started with one drink. Any more than that and you might not make it out the bar.

As I’ve said before, I’m not much of a dive bar person but there are actually a handful of places that I do like. Henry’s is eh alright for me. My fiancé and I met up with a couple friends at Henry’s Bar later in the night on St. Patricks day. This bar seems to be the only establishment open on that block a short walk from the move lively area off K street. The area seemed a little sketchy as bums and randoms were lurking around the secluded streets.
There wasn’t much of a crowd, which was expected but it was St. Patty’s day– shouldn’t there have been more than just my group of friends and 5 other people in there? I guess the highlights of this place would be super cheap drinks and the jukebox. Maybe I’ll change my mind after another visit but who knows.

I really only like this place for two reasons:
1. It’s cheap. I got a shot of Jameson and a Stella for $ 8…needless to say after a little more than an hour there, I don’t remember the rest of the night.
2. The vast majority of my friends are absolutely terrified of this place. And I enjoy torturing them. We will be returning… at least I will be returning.

Henry’s is the place you go to if you want badinage with local folks who may or may not be gainfully employed, or have histories that you may not feel fully comfortable exploring. In short, if you’re in any way like me, it’s for people like you — and me.
There’s a piano in the corner, which is often occupied in the afternoon by a gentleman who has more skills than his clothes would suggest. The bar is generally filled with people who have probably had a few more vodka and tonics than they should have consumed — but that’s okay here, yes? And behind the bar, you often have the estimable Linda — a true jewel of a bartender whom other bars would — or should — pay a hell of a lot more than she’s paid here. Henry — the actual Henry, apparently — who runs the greasy spoon next door and its accompanying old folks hotel upstairs — should take note, before Linda’s off to run the bar over at the Hyatt or the Sheraton.
This is a great little bar, a true treasure, and a terrific first place to come to once you hop off the Capitol Corridor train and first get into Sacramento, or drop off your rental car. You’ll meet far more real citizens of this town than you will if you hit up the Park or some place that aspires to be more Manhattan or L.A. than Sacramento. Start here, then proceed to… well, maybe the Torch Club or Old Ironsides. This is a fine, extremely underrated, place… a dive bar in the best sense. Good people, good times.

Alex Bday! SCHLITZ! Hell yeah! JOURNEY on the Jukebox! Hell yeah!
SITREP
Okay okay… honestly? This is not going to be any one of my hangouts anytime soon. I only came here because of our CM’s bday bar crawl. [And in point of fact, the only place of all the places that we hit that day that has the vibe Iove and keep going back to is Pre-​Flite Lounge. However, that being said…]
SETUP
Located right in the urine-​stained, and bum-​infested downtown area, I have to admit that Henry’s Bar is a fun place to duck into and have a quick drink. Which is what we did on this Saturday. The jukebox was bitchen and Minh get the tunes rockin on it, playing all of our air-​guitar favorites.
And oh my god! SCHLITZ on tap? SCHLITZ?!? Only $ 2.50! Where the hell did this come from? This reminds me of my drag-​racing days (I was only 7 – 9 years old at the time, but my uncles and older cousins always dragged me with them) when Schlitz was the beer of choice packed in the coolers as post-​racing (and unfortunately, PRE-​racing) discussions took place about turbo– and nitro-​injectors were dispassionately discussed with all seriousness.
It took me back…
THE LOWDOWN
Henry’s is a cool bar that makes for a fun stop and going back down memory lane.

Of all the dive bars in Sacramento, Henry’s for me has been one of the easiest to overlook. Maybe it’s the nondescript location on a forgotten block of 9^th street, or maybe it’s the simple forgettable name of the man the bar is named after. Whatever the case, it wasn’t until I popped in during a birthday bar crawl recently that I truly became fond of Henry’s.
For starters, they have a ton of stiff, cheap drinks served by an always friendly bartender. It being my birthday, I was given not one but two shots of «Three Wisemen» (three types of bourbon) on the house. The place is dark and dingy, but what exactly would anyone expect out of a hole-​in-​the-​wall? Perhaps best of all, they have a fully-​loaded jukebox with songs galore. You just can’t beat the people or vibe here!

Tip #1: This is a hole-​in-​the-​wall place. Do not come here if you are into places such as The Mix, The Park, or any other douchey nightclub that blasts techno into the night while the hookers sweat in their mini-​dresses and spikey heels.
People here are friendly but not TOO friendly, if you know what I mean. Feel free to sit and read the paper or draw on your napkin (usually what I’m doing). Linda the bartender is a doll.
The place is dimly lit with christmas lights. I’ll call it a dive, but not because it’s trashy to me… just that it doesn’t insist upon itself. You either like it or you don’t, and either way, anyone will be fine with that. I’ve never seen anyone fight here, or even get overly aggressive. Henry’s remains one of the most laid-​back bars I have ever been to.

I’m not much in tune to the dive bars in Sacramento.
Well, let me rephrase that. I can’t spend that much time in bars, period, because of the ultra molecular low level tolerance I have to alcohol. That being said, I justify the spending of my financial resources on edible items that won’t give me a hangover (ie: hamburgers, steaks, sushi) and can forgo the Scotch on the rocks.
I happened upon Henry’s because I met up with a bunch of fabulous people prior to hitting up TFO night dressed somehow like someone from the 50’s. Granted I could no longer fit into my poodle skirt from a Jr High costume party, but the best part of the ensemble was a gingham scarf my mum found in one of her trunks. Ponytail? Check. Scarf in the hair? Check.
Henry’s Bar is the perfect establishment for locals and visitors to congregate, relax, and have the friendly patrons next/​around you drop in comments here and there. Picking up a conversation is easy as slapping down $ 4 for a Vodka Red Bull. $ 4. WTF. I was paying $ 10 for these stupid things in San Francisco. The lady next to me told me to order the pineapple juice/​champagne concoction. I let her know that given my low tolerance, the sugar alone would act as a morphine drip and I’d be laid out cold.
Henry’s took me back to my fave dive bar in the city, Argus (
), the scene of many social gatherings and where locals would stream in after Socha would close (one glass of wine on a Friday just would not cut it). The feel? Dark. Crumbly. Perfect for one to remain anonymous but still carry a drink. The vinyl backed chairs and spongy floor offer a sense of stability to the inebriated, thank goodness for the solid wall behind me. The bartender was an older lady who delivered a mean drink with a smile. That being said, I was only able to finish ½ of my drink because I could already feel the royal flush of shame creeping down my temples.
A jukebox is set up near the dart board. REO Speedwagon came on and the mood changed immediately.
The perfect place to slip in and slip out, undetected, even in my vintage slingback black patent peep toes.

This dive bar is not for everyone.
If you are a classy professional, this is not the place for you.
If you can’t stand douchebags, this is not the place for you.
If you like prissy cocktails with barely any alcohol in them, this is not the place for you.
If you can’t sit next to a Vietnam vet who had shot 50+ combatants in their heads, this is not the place for you.
So why do I come here? Well, the characters are amusing, drinks are stiff and it’s always happy hour at Henry’s!
Shout out to my man Jorrel who’s featured on the door. What up Jorrel!

Well, this ain’t my kind of dive bar, I’ll tell you that much. Walk in on a Thursday night at a quarter to 10 and I would swear that the music stopped — no wait, there is no music. No sound at all. Just two oldies sittin’ at the bar slurpin’ on suckers.
They turned slowly as if to see who might grace them with their presence. The woman let out an audible groan when she saw it was only me – a younger woman wearing too much make up and carrying a computer bag. Yep, she sized me up accurately and quick.
As I sit here, there is no sound at all. Dead fucking silence. The sound of me typing is like … wait. In walks Scottie C and some faithful followers. Suddenly the place comes alive with characters spouting off and ordering coffee and brandy. They even know Scott wears a kilt. :)
I will report back later and perhaps remove the stick out of my ass after I’ve had a manhattan. or a tomato beer (as another regular just ordered.)

If assholes could fly, this place would be a airport, or so the sign behind the bar proclaims. There is another sign saying that whining and pouting are not allowed. There is yet more imagery on the door of a wasted baby Henry.
There is also a sign pasted to a zenith TV that your grandpa would think was dated, but by the time you have a few of the inexpensive and heavily poured drinks you are no longer paying enough attention to continue reading.
About this time you are realizing that asshole is a code word for career drunk and the baby drinking is clearly symbolic of the few young people in the bar and the no pouting rule is serving as a reminder to the regular clientele to keep their mouths shut when a song from this decade is randomly played on the jukebox.
This is a very particular type of bar. Dark and worn and not yet discovered by anyone your age that does not have a destiny dissimilar to that of the 50+ crowd that line the bar. Its not for everyone but it definitely has its charm for some.

ISo I went to Henry’s last night with a crew of folks and that place never changes. It is one of those little shit holes where you feel like you taken a couple of steps down physically and socially upon entering.
I really like it when toothless drunks are digging on music that you don’t think they would be into. This guy last night was grooving out to «Bad» by U2 off of The Unforgettable Fire circa 1985. He was so into it. It was like he had some memory shadow that was burned into the inside of his skull where grey matter used to be when the atomic blast of alcohol came in and destroyed everything.
Cheap beer. Stiff pours. Reasonable prices. Reasonable that is if you don’t count the price you pay to your immortal soul.