We haven't been to every dive in Phoenix, but we're getting close. The Fox Hole sure seems like the real deal to us — sometimes you walk into a place and it just feels right. The Hole is a typical dive in a bad part of town, complete with an abandoned, dumpy-looking empty lot behind it. Walking around to the front (don't ask what we were doing in the empty lot) there are large letters on the wall that say, simply, COCKTAILS. And above the door it reads, "Welcome to the Fox Hole."

We open the door to crinkled, old, sodden carpet, and through the doorway we spot two mangy pool tables to the left, and to the right a shuffleboard table and a brass-plated bar — the whole thing is this old, pounded brass plate, like gold-colored tin all over the bar. Awesome.

Dee the bartender is seasoned and just hired from the defunct Thunderbird Lounge up the road; she's from Ohio and brings some personality and warmth to the place.

We settle in and order a beer, which shows up quickly in a subzero frosty mug. We notice the centerpiece of the bar, a nice fish tank with a half a dozen or so of the little guys looking out at us. We ask Dee if she names them and she says, "Nah, but the big one on the bottom is the prettiest." The big guy next to us chimes in loudly, "Yeah, the shit-sucker!" Dee laughs and the big guy says, "Why is it that the prettiest one in there is the one that just sits around and eats shit all day... I don't get it."

Well, as we look around at these folks and the drunken grins and swaggers in this place, we get it loud and clear: This is the prettiest place we've found ourselves, in a long time.

But, perhaps, not for long. You'd better get over to The Fox Hole soon — word is the place has new owners, and they already made the men's room "nice," and we guess they're looking to add new carpet soon... Giddy up before they ruin the charm up in the joint.