Remember being a kid and sneaking a peak inside grandpa's den?
All right, maybe your grandpa didn't have a den, but someone's did and it was all dark, rich colors and a fireplace and swanky in a sort of manly or understated way.
Fast-forward that den about 20 years, turn grandpa into some of Vegas' most prized hipsters and you have The Griffin.
With leather booths drenched in deep red tones and two fireplaces (beat that, gramps) to sit around, The Griffin is the kind of place that makes you want to order something different than a Coors Light, something classier, something that you can drink out of a clean, neat glass.
Something with ice, even.
Regardless of what you're drinking, The Griffin has quickly become one of the coolest spots in town to see and be seen, but not in a pretentious sort of way. It's the kind of bar where if you're local, you run into somebody you know, and if you're not a local, trust us, you'll run into somebody you want to know -- you'll be able to tell that you want to know them when they pick out a few eyebrow-arch worthy selections on the bar's jukebox.
Ah, yes, the jukebox. Often seen in bars, bowling alleys and game rooms, no jukebox in town quite rivals The Griffin's selection. Listing bands here would only pigeon-hole it and it's just not fair to do that.
It's also not fair (to yourself) to skip out on The Griffin. If you're looking for anything resembling a cool night out, grab a friend or plan to make a new one and cross through the heavy curtain that guards the bar from all the hype that sometimes plagues Las Vegas.
It's a whole different world in there.
-- Review by Jamie Helmick