The Best Places to Drink and Do in the United States

An antique mall so large that people routinely miscalculate how long they'll be inside. Individual booths mean each seller curates their own little world, so a stretch of vintage film cameras can give way to a wall of Arizona kitsch or a case of rare Pokémon cards without any warning. Cowboy boots, obscure collectibles, mid-century furniture, and things you didn't know you needed are all here, somewhere. Clear the afternoon.

You sign a waiver, pull on safety gear, and then someone hands you a crate of breakable things and walks away. Breakthrough is a smash room, which means the activity is exactly what it sounds like: hurling bottles and retired appliances at walls until your arms give out. A splatter room handles the paint-throwing crowd. It's a surprisingly efficient way to reset, and considerably cheaper than the destruction of property charge waiting just outside.

Bruce Springsteen swung by on his last Phoenix tour, which tells you roughly what kind of store Cave & Post Trading Co. is. It's a men's clothing shop in central Phoenix that leans into classic American workwear with a Western edge, carrying selvedge denim, pearl-snap shirts, and the sort of sunglasses that feel like they belong in a different decade. The owners are music people, so touring bands stop in regularly, though most regulars are just well-dressed guys who know what they like.

Duke Ellington played this Five Points room when it was still the Casino Cabaret, which tells you something about the bones. It's a live music venue now running a wide-open booking policy: dubstep, hip-hop, bluegrass, and jam bands share the calendar without obvious contradiction. The main floor was rebuilt and the stage expanded, so the sound holds up. Crowds skew toward people who track setlists, but the room pulls in anyone chasing a late night.

Tucked below Larimer Square, this standup club has the kind of acoustics that make a room feel like it's laughing with one throat. Dave Attell recorded a live album here, and Dave Chappelle has a habit of showing up unannounced. New Talent Nights have been launching local comics toward television for years, which keeps the room feeling like something might actually happen on any given night.

The name came from an old boot shop whose sign was too expensive to replace, which tells you everything about how Cowtown operates. It's a skate shop with a lived-in feel, stocking boards, trucks, and apparel for everyone from serious park rats to people whose knees have filed a formal complaint. Staff who actually skate work the counter, and the shop runs a nonprofit keeping younger riders in the scene.

A cactus-shaped shot glass and a roadrunner onesie in the same basket is a good sign that a shop resists easy categorization. Frances is a gift and lifestyle boutique tucked into a Camelback Road shopping center, stocking menswear, kids' clothes, home goods, jewelry, and Arizona-made finds alongside greeting cards and complimentary gift wrap, so you can walk in scrambling and walk out sorted.

The art-deco interior survived a near-demolition, and it still sets the tone: ornate details, good acoustics, and a room that makes mid-sized shows feel like an occasion. The Gothic is a standing concert venue in Englewood that books the kind of acts you'll wish you'd caught before they got bigger, alongside local projects that wouldn't otherwise find a stage this good. Take the light rail; parking on Broadway is its own opening act.

Each location of this local adult shop chain gets its own decor scheme, so the Arcadia spot leans street art while the West Valley one goes full Alice in Wonderland. Groove stocks lingerie, dancewear, toys, and bachelorette supplies, and the staff are the kind of helpful that doesn't make anyone squirm. There's a rewards program for regulars, which the store describes, with admirable restraint, as benefiting frequent customers.

The low-slung stage here puts you close enough to the band that you'll question whether you're supposed to be back there. Larimer Lounge is a dive-ish live music venue in RiNo that has hosted acts like Arcade Fire and Bat for Lashes before they stopped fitting in rooms this size. The bar up front runs on beer, shots, and what appears to be structural duct tape. Westword named it Denver's top venue for both rock bands and DJs in 2024.

A boutique bodega stocked with natural wines, Arizona-made snacks, and objects no reasonable person needs but everyone leaves carrying. The purple psychedelic oven mitt, the artichoke candle, the butterfly dice: the inventory reads like a fever dream curated by someone with genuinely good taste. Cold drinks, eclectic merch, Baggu bags, and a hot sauce section round it out. It also hosts yoga sometimes, which tracks completely.

More than 400 Indigenous-owned small businesses share a permanent indoor market in Old Town Scottsdale, selling handmade goods that range from beaded jewelry and hand-carved pottery to soaps and sand art. The nonprofit vending program requires all participants to be of Native American descent, so purchases go straight to the makers. A seasonal outdoor market runs on weekends in cooler months for anyone who prefers browsing under the sky.

The wraparound balcony alone explains why national touring acts keep coming back to this mid-size concert venue on Colfax. The Ogden has been around forever, vaudeville and all, and a recent overhaul brought new floors and a proper sound system without scrubbing the old bones. It holds a sweet spot between arena anonymity and club intimacy, which makes the sightlines good pretty much wherever you end up.

An old movie house in the Berkeley neighborhood that survived decades of disrepair to become one of Denver's more reliably eclectic live venues. Music, comedy, circus, and things harder to categorize all share the same stage, which makes checking the calendar a worthwhile habit. The room still carries the bones of its original life, and the scale keeps it intimate enough that there isn't really a bad spot in the house.

A festival-wear shop on Mill Avenue stocked with shiny bodysuits, fuzzy sets, wild sunglasses, flow toys, and everything else you need to look properly unhinged under a light rig. Most of the merchandise comes from Arizona makers, so the sequins carry some local pride. The store has a posted zero-tolerance policy for bigotry, which shouldn't be a selling point but somehow still is. Go when your next event is two weeks out and you've convinced yourself you have something to wear.

Two 300-foot sandstone fins frame the stage at Red Rocks, an outdoor amphitheater carved by geology rather than any architect. U2 filmed "Under a Blood Red Sky" here, and the recording captures why: the acoustics are a geological accident that nobody has managed to replicate. The venue sits open most of the year for hiking and visiting even when nobody's performing, so you don't need a ticket to feel like you've stumbled onto something.

A 360-degree ocean tunnel sits at the center of this mall aquarium, and yes, it's inside Arizona Mills, which somehow makes the sharks feel more surreal. Over 5,000 species move through 161,000 gallons, including reef sharks, stingrays, jellyfish, and a tank where kids can locate both Nemo and Dory without a map. The tide pool lets you touch baby sharks, and a paid add-on gets you up close with rescued sea turtles. Cheaper than its Scottsdale rival by a wide margin.

Part antique mall, part haunted house, Terror Trader is a horror-themed marketplace where local vendors fill coffin-shaped cases with slasher memorabilia, VHS tapes, and ceramic human organs. A museum room of real skulls anchors the space, and life-size slasher villains lurk around corners for good measure. Phoenix New Times named it the best place for horror buffs two years running. The crowd, predictably, does not shop in beige.

A vast stage and a sound system loud enough to rattle the fillings out of your skull make The 44 in Glendale the go-to metal venue in the Valley, which feels cosmically correct given that Alice Cooper grew up nearby. National touring acts share the bill with tribute bands and local talent, and the bar food is cheap enough that you can eat and still afford a band tee. Bring earplugs unless you enjoy tinnitus as a souvenir.

Chandeliers and exposed rafters inside a 1930s building that now hosts 1,800 people for live music on a good night. The Van Buren is a midsize concert venue in downtown Phoenix where general admission keeps things relatively democratic and the sightlines are genuinely hard to complain about. Live Nation books the calendar, which means a steady rotation of artists big enough to matter but not yet filling arenas.

Tens of thousands of used books spread across the fairgrounds floor once a year, priced so low it feels like a clerical error. The VNSA Used Book Sale is Phoenix's annual bibliophile free-for-all, run by volunteers and drawing serious collectors alongside people who just need something for the pool. Bring a tote, bring cash, and arrive with a loose plan, because the sheer square footage has a way of dissolving any sense of time or restraint.

A vintage shop tucked into a North Phoenix strip mall, Wang's moves the kind of T-shirts that make strangers stop you on the street: old Suns gear, beat-up band tees, the Marilyn Manson shirt your mom vetoed. Stock turns over constantly, so regulars follow their Instagram like a dispatch line. Prices run fair to real money depending on the piece, though the Saturday sale bins reliably yield something good for ten dollars.

A small vintage shop in Tucson's Grand Avenue arts district, 3G Vintage is packed floor to ceiling with the detritus of a better-dressed era: mid-90s cassette singles, old VHS tapes, back issues of Rolling Stone, troll dolls. New stock arrives constantly, which gives regulars an excuse to stop in often and call it research. Whether the decades it celebrates were genuinely simpler or just pre-mortgage is a question you can debate on the drive over.

Trays of loose bricks sorted by color and size sit open on the floor so you can hunt down that one piece you've been missing since 2009. Arizona Brick Co. is a family-run LEGO shop carrying new sets, used sets, individual minifigures, and the kind of loose-brick selection that serves both the casual builder and the person who considers this a lifestyle. Price points range enough that you don't have to be a completionist to leave with something.

Somewhere between a liturgical supply house and a very niche gift shop, Autom is the kind of place that sells hanging censers and baptismal fonts alongside saint medallions, garden crosses, and yes, religious-themed Croc charms. The only retail outpost of a catalog operation that ships nationwide, it's been around forever and skews Catholic but has enough for curious shoppers of any tradition or none at all.

Every October, one wing of this sprawling family nursery quietly transforms into a Christmas wonderland, which says something about how seriously Phoenix takes its holiday seasons. The rest of the year, Berridge is the kind of plant nursery you budget an hour for and leave three hours later, having consulted the staff about desert-hardy options and wandered the greenhouse twice. An old-school Phoenix institution with acres to roam.

Neon, glitz, and gold cover every surface of this 3,500-square-foot Scottsdale nightclub, which has been an anchor of the entertainment district long enough to feel like a local institution. The format is straightforward: drinking and dancing, with aerialists and guest DJ sets keeping things from going stale. Expect a line out front and a crowd dressed accordingly.

Sketch comedy and improv on South Broadway, where the Baker neighborhood's thrift-store-chic energy suits the format perfectly. Performers with roots in Chicago, New York, and LA take the stage Thursday through Sunday, and the room is small enough that a botched scene lands on everyone equally. Classes run from total beginner to working comic, so you can watch one week and embarrass yourself on stage the next.

A foam tube "noodle forest," a pretend grocery store where kids can shop and restock, a tricycle track with a car wash: this children's museum in a beautifully restored old downtown schoolhouse keeps small visitors busy enough that they forget to argue. The oak floors date to the original building, so parents get architecture while their kids get chaos. Plan a few hours; one level is never enough.

A single-owner operation in a bare-bones space where new and unpublished plays get staged because no board exists to say otherwise. Dangerous Theatre leans into sketch, improv, and stand-up on Fridays alongside original works the rest of the week, the kind of scrappy, intimate venue where the person who wrote the show might also be taking your ticket. Westword named it Denver's boundary-pushing comedy club of 2024.

A crystal shop tucked inside a warehouse that shares a building with a storage facility, so easy to walk past that finding it feels like half the ritual. Inside, the scale surprises: room after room of crystals, including one dedicated entirely to amethyst. A resident cat roams the floor. Weekly sound healing and yoga sessions run under lighting made entirely of crystals, which is either very on-brand or a fire code conversation waiting to happen.

An outdoor amphitheater in the Denver suburbs that has cycled through enough corporate sponsors to fill a naming-rights hall of fame, Fiddlers Green is now back to its original name and hosting around 17,000 people a summer night. The fixed seats up front give way to a general-admission lawn behind, where blankets and lawn chairs fill in for anything from country headliners to metal festivals. AEG Live books the big touring acts that still fill sheds.

A tabletop game store that doesn't charge to use its gaming space, which tells you something about the vibe before you even walk in. Funkatronic Rex stocks tabletop, card, miniature, and role-playing games, with a packed event calendar and staff who clearly play everything they sell. The place landed a segment on "Critter Hug," the Critical Role talk show, which tracks. Phoenix New Times named it Best Game Store in 2024.

Floor-to-ceiling windows that actually let daylight in make this casino feel less like a submarine than what you're used to. The outdoor gardens drive the point home. Inside, there's a large sportsbook with a long LED wall, 800-plus slots, table games, and 40 craft beer taps. Honey & Vine handles sit-down dining. Don't skip the perimeter walk: the walls display artwork by Gila River Indian Community members, and it's worth the detour.

The Stormrider drops you roughly 70 feet into the water, which is one way to spend a Tuesday in Mesa. Golfland Sunsplash is a full-scale water and amusement park with a wave pool holding 450,000 gallons, a raft ride that starts nearly seven stories up, a lazy river, a toddler pool, miniature golf, and an arcade big enough to lose an hour in. Bring the whole chaotic family; the park has something for every age group and nerve tolerance.

The sushi menu here is organized by skill level, from "Beginner Rolls" up through "Intermediate" and into house specials, most of which are named after something you wouldn't say at a work lunch. Hapa is a casual fusion sushi bar that also does sliders, nachos, and a Fuji apple salad for anyone dragged there under protest. The kitchen is more capable than the cheeky menu suggests, and somehow a DJ fits into the whole equation too.

A former automotive garage on Grand Avenue that now holds whatever washed up in one retired fire captain's decades of hunting. The category is "industrial vintage," but that undersells the weird old dolls and model airplanes sharing space with vintage photos and art books. It keeps Thursday-through-Saturday hours, so the First and Third Friday artwalks on Grand are a natural excuse to stop in and see what's appeared since last time.

The 9-foot bong is reserved for special occasions, and the staff will tell you so with a straight face. This Tempe smoke shop has been around forever, and while the name got a subtle refresh somewhere along the way, the mission hasn't: walls of glass pieces, a deep vape section, grinders, rolling trays, hookah supplies, and a staff that actually knows the inventory. Phoenix New Times named it Best Smoke Shop in 2024.

An ice rink in the Sonoran Desert is a bit of a flex, and Ice Den Scottsdale leans into it. Free skate sessions run most days (advance registration required), and lessons are available for anyone still holding the wall. A bar and restaurant called 18 Degrees handles the spectators. When the Phoenix Coyotes development squad uses the ice, you get a side of actual hockey. It is, without question, the coldest place for miles.

Five stages, three bars, and over a hundred performers make Jaguars one of the larger adult entertainment clubs in the Southwest. The kitchen runs a full lunch and dinner menu, so you can show up hungry in more than one sense. Rap and pro-athlete sightings raise the energy on big nights, and the annual pole competition draws serious talent from across the region. The Phoenix New Times named it Best Strip Club in 2024.

Seven Diamond pool tables anchor this no-frills West Phoenix bar and billiard hall, where draft beer and chips and salsa keep things moving for hours. Darts, UFC nights, and a genuinely laid-back vibe round out the options. The one catch: JJ's hosts tournaments but has no website to post them on, so call ahead before making the trip. The Phoenix New Times named it Best Pool Hall in 2024.

A compact gear shop in north Phoenix run by former Grand Canyon outfitters who wrote the book on rim-to-rim hiking, not metaphorically but as an actual published guide. The selection leans toward boutique and sustainable brands rather than big-box standbys, and the staff will talk you through your next trip with the enthusiasm of people who just got back from one. They also organize group hikes and workshops if you need a push to get outside.

The floor-to-ceiling rose bouquets here run a hundred stems deep, which is why they photograph better than most wedding venues. La Ocasion is a full-service flower shop with two climate-controlled rooms at the McDowell Road location, where arrangements range from classic long-stems to roses bundled with gold-wrapped Ferrero Rocher. There's also a grand piano and a pool table on site, apparently for scale, or for the photo op.

Eight screens tucked into Scottsdale Quarter, so you can browse a dozen shops, debate dinner, and then settle into a reclining seat for something that might actually be good for you culturally. Landmark leans toward indie and arthouse programming alongside mainstream releases, plus classic film screenings at prices that feel almost apologetic. The sound is solid, the picture sharp, and the crowd skews toward people who checked the reviews before buying the ticket.

The lounge here is comfortable enough that you could forget there are lanes out back, which is either a design triumph or a problem depending on how serious you are about bowling. This Sunnyslope alley has been independently owned forever, and the bar leans into the Big Lebowski energy hard enough that ordering a White Russian feels basically mandatory. Plush seating, warm lighting, geometric walls, and plenty of beer on tap round it out.

Natural fabrics and neutral tones dominate the racks at Local Nomad, a lifestyle boutique tucked into Uptown Plaza that stocks women's clothing, accessories, bath products, home goods, and a small kids' section. The edit skews breezy and warm-weather-ready, which makes sense given the setting. Buy online and pick up in hours if you'd rather not browse in the heat, though the store itself is worth the stop.

A loop trail inside Phoenix city limits that puts you face-first into the sunset if you walk it clockwise. The Lookout Mountain Preserve trailhead sits off 16th Street, and the climb is moderate enough to do on a weeknight after work. The west side of the loop opens onto distant peaks going orange, and the north stretch flattens out into scrubby brush where quail and the occasional roadrunner do their thing. Dogs on leash are welcome.

The floor bar sits right next to the stage so you never have to choose between a drink and the show. This mid-size live music venue on Mill Avenue holds around a thousand people, which is somehow both big enough to book national touring acts and intimate enough that there isn't a bad spot in the house. A Perfect Circle, Social Distortion, and the Black Keys have all played here, and local showcases keep the calendar full between the headliners.

Nearly 180 cars fill a converted big-box store in Glendale, ranging from a 1909 REO touring car to muscle cars that look like they're still angry about the gas crisis. The collection rotates regularly, since the owner keeps classics stashed all over the Valley, so repeat visits turn up something new. A vintage carousel and a 1929 Chevrolet popcorn truck keep younger visitors occupied while the gearheads linger over the Hot Rod back issues.

Over 31,000 acres of Sonoran Desert spread across Scottsdale's northern edge, with trails ranging from gentle wanders to climbs that will remind your calves they exist. The McDowell Sonoran Conservancy runs training and education programs alongside the hiking and biking, so you can leave knowing more than just that saguaros are tall. It reads less like a city park and more like the desert reminding you it was here first.

A specialty grocery in Mesa stocking Michigan imports that are genuinely hard to find elsewhere in the Valley: Koegel's meats, Amish cheese curds, Mackinac Island fudge, and enough Faygo flavors to fill a Detroit corner store. The staff are Michiganders themselves, so commiserating about the Lions is entirely on the table. If you moved here from the Mitten and have been quietly suffering, this is the place.

Tucked behind a well-known restaurant in the Melrose District, this midcentury antique shop packs teak dining chairs, Eames loungers, boomerang coffee tables, and a rotating cast of kitschy lamps into a showroom that rewards slow laps. Everything is properly restored and priced accordingly, though a more affordable layer of vintage clothing, jewelry, and bric-a-brac runs underneath. Somewhere in there might be a 1970s Thomas electronic organ, unless someone got there first.

A century-old Baptist sanctuary that survived a fire, decades of abandonment, and a near demolition date has reopened in downtown Phoenix as an event and wedding venue. The vaulted shell of the place is the draw, and concert promoters are already circling to bring live music into the space. A restaurant is reportedly in the works too, making this one of those rare civic second acts worth watching unfold in real time.

A small neighborhood Japanese grocery where the edit does the work: one or two quality options per ingredient instead of an aisle of noise. Pantry staples, fresh miso, mackerel, and myoga fill the shelves, and the snack aisle runs deeper than the usual suspects. A rack of Japanese DVDs in the corner handles dramas, anime, and language study for anyone planning a longer project at home.

The shop stocks tour merch from acts that recently played the Nile Theater down the street, so if you missed the show you can still walk out with the shirt. It's a small record store inside The Greenbelt building, selling vinyl, tapes, CDs, and apparel, with a tightly curated mix of rock, country, punk, indie, and hip-hop. The selection runs new and used, and the rotating band merch gives it a reason to check back in that most shops can't offer.

Sixteen courts, good lights, and lines you can actually see make Pecos Park the default answer when someone in the Phoenix area wants to play pickleball. It's a public park in Ahwatukee, so turnover happens fast even on packed weeknights. The rest of the family has no excuse to stay home, either, since there's a skate plaza, splash pads, a dog park, and courts for basketball, soccer, and volleyball waiting for them.

The Lone Tree at the trail's end looks genuinely out of place, a single pine against the bone-dry Superstition Wilderness like someone forgot to finish the landscape. This 5.4-mile out-and-back near Gold Canyon earns its reputation through steep incline and payoff in equal measure, with Weavers Needle, Battleship Mountain, and Canyon Lake all in view. Pack a lunch and hold out for the shade under that tree, or climb the boulders beside it for the full panorama.

A 4.2-mile out-and-back near Superior with enough cliff scrambling to remind you that your body is mostly just bones. The payoff at the top is a mailbox stuffed with trinkets, letters, and reportedly condoms left by previous hikers, plus sweeping views of the Superstitions. Expect some butt-sliding on the descent, and bring real shoes. Arriving late rewards you with a west-facing sunset over the mountain terrain below.

A dog grooming salon where regulars apparently sprint to the front desk on arrival, which tells you something about the vibe. Puff & Fluff has been around forever and now runs eight Valley locations from this uptown Phoenix original. The menu covers everything from baths and nail trims to facials and massages, plus a service listed last on purpose. Monthly memberships exist for the truly devoted pet parent. Cats are also welcome, presumably on their own terms.