Las Vegas Lounge
704 Chestnut St., 215-592-9533

With a name like Las Vegas Lounge, you'd expect gaudy decor and gratuitous lighting. What you get instead is an unassuming hole in a high-rise joint, looking no different than your average small-town bar.

The place is long and narrow like a railway car and its deep-red walls are plastered front to back with framed portraits of American greats, including Frankie, Marilyn and Sammy D.

We snag a table sandwiched between the smallish lounge quarters and backroom pool sharks. In a stroke of practical genius, the place mats are built right into the tabletop.

My gin- and vermouth-drinking companions order the $3 dirty martini special. (Other daily specials include two-for-one Corona bottles, $8 import pitchers and three tacos for a buck.) Tiff comments that her order "tastes like the ocean," which, depending on your affinity for salt and seaweed, isn't such a bad thing. Despite the salivary blitzkrieg of four olives, Landon downs his drink in one gulp. What a trooper.

Sticking with the Elvis-of-latter-years theme, Vegas' menu offers a sumptuous array of fatty tavern grub, including fried ravioli, buffalo chicken cheesesteak and a Build Your Own Burger option.

A jukebox purrs unorthodox reggae, hip-hop and funk-rock tunes—a welcome relief considering Philly bars' affinity for Bon Jovi and Kelly Clarkson. Thursdays don't draw much of a listening crowd, though, as several booths and tables sat vacant during our stay.

High rollers don't play for tacos.