Home of the meat raffle and Tuesday bingo, the Knight Cap is through and through a neighborhood, corner bar. Not a place to see and be seen, the bar has an air of Blue Velvet about it. Women in baggy sweaters debate taxation (conclusion: “we’re getting screwed”), a peanut gallery of middle-aged men discuss every Clash, Tom Waits, and Tom Petty song that plays, and three screens of football act as fixtures at the Knight Cap. Bud light, Coors light, and a Summit Extra Pale Ale are on tap waiting to be paired with some seriously fried onion rings or corn dogs. Don’t let the regulars scare you, they’re all there for the same reason you are: to unwind after the nine-to-five.
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