The New Guy Visits: Roll-N Saloon

The Roll-N Saloon: Tracy Manford

I’m new to town, and I like to drink. For reasons I’m not stupid enough to question, 29-95 has decided to pay me (I know!) to bring both of those considerable traits to bear as I explore the city I now call home.
• Read about my past bar trips. [1]

After my last bar — which involved a trip out to Jersey Village from which I almost did not return [2] — I kept things a bit closer to home this time around. My assignment was the Roll-N Saloon [3], and just to get right to the point: It was awesome. The bar sits on the edge of River Oaks, literally across the train tracks from the houses you and I will never be able to afford, and you just know those cougars hate it.
Photo credit: Tracy Manford
I was actually the first to arrive at the bar. Like, there was no one else in the parking lot. The Roll-N is at the end of a run-down strip mall that also holds a liquor store, so I figured everyone else had decided to just bag it and go home. But eventually the attendance swelled to half a dozen. And this was on a Saturday night, prime drinking time. I took it as a sad reminder that crowds drift away as a bar ages.

The interior is classic Texas dive: American flag, deer head, old-school rear-projection TV tuned to ESPN (the ancient sign does advertise a “large TV”), and a long battered bar along the wall. The dark ceiling tiles are packed with the chalk scrawlings of generations. It seems like everyone who’s ever had a drink there has written their name or, in one instance, a bizarre and nonsensical religious slur that libel laws pretty much forbid me from reproducing. Regardless, if you go, you should leave your mark.

The night started slow, with just one other guy sitting at the bar and chatting up Mark, the bartender. Photo credit: Tracy Manford I decided to check out the jukebox and found it loaded with a decent selection of classic rock and country, though not quite enough blues. When I’m at a bar, I need some blues. It’s the best soundtrack for drinking, regardless of whether you’re actually depressed.

As I rooted in my pocket for change, though, Mark spoke up from the behind the bar and told me there should already be money in there. And there was! He’d preloaded like 20 plays, just because. “Have at it,” he told me. Every bar should do this. I’m not saying give the juke away, but at least offer up some free tracks to help kick things off. So I fired up a few of what are becoming my barroom standards — “Texas Flood,” “Since I’ve Been Loving You,” a few others — and settled in with my beer.

At one point, one of the guys shooting pool made a comment to his buddy actually denigrating my musical choices. The song at the moment was “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” I would like to invite that guy to bite me.

As I drank and talked with some of the locals, I was impressed at just how relaxed and authentic the Roll-N is. I don’t ask that every bar be a dive, only that they be free of pretense, and brother, the Roll-N is about as honest as it gets. Photo credit: Tracy Manford The people were tired and normal-looking, the bartender was easygoing, and there was no pressure to do anything but shoot pool on the lone table and listen to music as the crowd swells and thins with the evening. Plus you have to love the fact that you’re getting hammered in a crusty old joint that’s the polar opposite of its ritzy surroundings. This place almost doesn’t belong in River Oaks, but that’s what makes it a wonderful find. It’s an oasis.

The Roll-N is a great place to stop in for a beer and unwind, but you’ll need to take advantage of it soon. Mark — who’s been working there close to seven years — told me that the Roll-N will be closing its doors in January after 41 years of serving the hard-drinking citizens of Houston. Lease-related, if I remember, but don’t hold me to that; I’d had a few by then.

Whatever the reason, it won’t be long before this vintage Houston watering hole is shuttered forever, so do your duty and stop in before then to have a drink at a place you’ll talk about fondly after it’s gone. It’s a great little bar.