I rolled into Iowa City fresh out of four years of liberal arts college on the East Coast and poured myself from the catering business into a bartending job in one of the trailer park bars.
There are two kinds of bars in Iowa City: college bars where UIowa Students get trashed, and trailer park bars where locals get drunk. The college students call the local bars, without exception, dives.
Memories was a dive. I called it a trailer park bar because 90 percent of my clientele lived in one of Iowa City's bustling tin can condos. The customers all knew each other, what each other drank, and what to do to piss each other off.