You’re walking down Oak Street in the Riverbend, and if you aren’t looking closely, you’ll miss it. It looks like a shed. Honestly, it looks like a shed that’s been through a few rounds with a hurricane and decided to just stay leaning. There’s a tiny glowing wreath. A plastic Santa might be hanging out near the door. This is Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge, and it is arguably the most famous dive bar in a city that treats dive bars like holy shrines.
New Orleans has plenty of flashy spots. You can go to Bourbon Street and get a sugary drink in a plastic grenade, but that’s for tourists. If you want to understand the actual soul of the 504, you end up here at 3:00 AM.
It’s dark. Like, "can't see your own hand" dark. The only real illumination comes from some vintage Christmas lights that look like they haven’t been unplugged since the Clinton administration. It smells like old wood, cheap beer, and a little bit of mystery. It’s perfect.
The Bare Bones History of a Legend
Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge didn't start as a planned concept. It wasn't built by a hospitality group with a "mood board." It just sort of happened. Founded by the late Gregory "Snake" Jernigan and his partner, the bar has occupied this humble shack for decades. It’s a neighborhood staple that accidentally became a global destination.
People ask about the name. It’s not some complex metaphor. Snake was the man; the Christmas lights were just cheap decor that never came down. Over time, that year-round holiday vibe became the brand. It’s a place where time stops. You walk in during a humid July night, and inside, it’s a dim, refrigerated December.
The building itself is a trip. It’s a "shotgun" style shack. Narrow. Intimate. You’re going to bump into people. You’re going to hear conversations you weren’t meant to hear. That’s the point. In a world of sterile, high-ceilinged lounges with QR code menus, Snake and Jake’s is a stubborn relic of a grit-heavy past.
Why People Keep Coming Back to the Dark
Why do celebrities like Anthony Bourdain or local icons frequent a place that looks like it might collapse? Because it’s honest.
There is zero pretension at Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge. You can be a millionaire or a bike mechanic; in that lighting, everyone looks the same. Most people are there for the "Possum Drop"—not a real animal, don't worry—or the infamous Schitz and a Giggles (a Schlitz beer and a shot of Jameson).
👉 See also: Flights from San Diego to New Jersey: What Most People Get Wrong
The bartenders are legends in their own right. They’ve seen it all. They aren't there to make you a craft cocktail with elderflower foam and a charred rosemary sprig. They’re there to crack a cold can and keep the vibe steady.
The Unwritten Rules of the Lounge
If you’re going to show up, don’t be "that person."
Don’t use your flash. Seriously. The darkness is the most important part of the architecture. If you start snapping high-intensity photos, you’ll ruin the mojo and probably get some dirty looks from the regulars who are hiding from the sun.
It’s a late-night spot. While they open earlier, the magic doesn't really hit until well after midnight. It’s a "last stop" kind of place.
Bring cash. While things change, it’s a dive bar. Treat it like one.
The "Snake" isn't here anymore, but Dave Clements took over the mantle years ago to keep the spirit alive. Respect the history.
The Layout and the Atmosphere
Imagine a hallway that sells booze. That’s the layout. The bar takes up one side, and a few tattered booths or chairs take up the other. The floor might be a little uneven. The walls are covered in decades of stickers, scribbles, and things that might be art or might just be trash.
✨ Don't miss: Woman on a Plane: What the Viral Trends and Real Travel Stats Actually Tell Us
It’s small.
If there are twenty people inside, it feels like a party. If there are forty, it’s a riot.
The music is usually coming from a jukebox or a simple setup, and it’s never what you expect. You might hear some deep-cut soul, some local brass, or just weird 70s rock. It fits. Everything about Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge is about the "fit."
Dealing with the "Best Dive Bar" Labels
Every year, some national magazine or travel site names it one of the best dive bars in America. This is a double-edged sword. It brings in the crowds, sure. But it also threatens the very thing that makes it special: the feeling of being a secret.
The locals are protective. They don’t want it to become a theme park. Fortunately, the physical limitations of the building prevent that. You can’t fit a busload of tourists in there. The tin roof and the creaky door act as a natural filter. If you can’t handle a little grime and a lot of shadow, you probably won’t stay for a second drink.
What to Actually Drink
Keep it simple. This is not the place for a complex wine list.
- Schlitz: It’s the house champagne.
- High Life: Because you're fancy.
- Jameson: The universal language of the New Orleans service industry.
- Guinness: Sometimes they have it, and it feels right in the dark.
If you ask for a mojito, the bartender might just stare at you until you leave. Or they’ll laugh. Either way, you aren't getting a mojito.
🔗 Read more: Where to Actually See a Space Shuttle: Your Air and Space Museum Reality Check
Surviving the Night
When you eventually stumble out of Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge, the sun might be coming up. That’s the New Orleans way. The transition from the pitch-black lounge to the bright Louisiana morning is a physical shock. It’s like being reborn, but with a slight headache and the smell of cigarettes on your shirt.
It’s located at 7612 Oak St. It’s tucked away in a residential-ish area. Be quiet when you leave. People live there. The bar has a tenuous, beautiful relationship with the neighborhood, and the only way it stays open is if the patrons aren't jerks on the sidewalk.
Real Talk: Is it Safe?
It’s as safe as any bar in a major city at 4:00 AM. It’s a community. People look out for each other. Because it’s so small, the bartenders see everything. They don’t put up with nonsense. If someone is being a creep or a problem, they’re out. The "Club" part of the name is unofficial, but the regulars definitely feel like a collective.
The Future of the Lounge
In a city that’s constantly being "improved" and gentrified, spots like this are endangered. Rents go up. Buildings get bought by developers who want to turn them into minimalist coffee shops.
But Snake and Jake’s feels permanent. It feels like it’s held together by the collective will of the people who need a place to go when everywhere else is closed. It’s a sanctuary for the night owls, the misfits, and the people who just want a beer without a side of "experience."
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
If you're planning to make the pilgrimage to this Oak Street icon, keep these practical points in mind to ensure you actually enjoy the night rather than feeling like an interloper.
- Check the hours: They typically open around 7:00 PM, but don't bother going before 11:00 PM if you want the full experience.
- Transportation: Don't try to park in that neighborhood late at night. Take a ride-share. It’s easier, safer, and you won't have to navigate the narrow streets while sleepy/tipsy.
- Dress down: This is the place for your oldest jeans and a t-shirt. Leave the heels or the expensive shoes at the hotel. The floor is... well, it's a dive bar floor.
- Engage, but don't pester: Talk to the person next to you. Snake and Jake's is one of the few places left where people actually talk to strangers. Just don't be a tourist asking a million questions about "what it's really like to live here." Just be.
- Check the weather: If it’s raining, the tin roof makes a sound you’ll never forget. It’s the best soundtrack in the city.
New Orleans is a city of layers. You have the history you see in the museums, and then you have the history you feel in the walls of a place like Snake and Jake's Christmas Club Lounge. It’s not just a bar. It’s a testament to the idea that as long as there’s a cold beer and a red light bulb, everything might just be okay for a few more hours.
Next Steps for the New Orleans Traveler
To get the most out of an Oak Street night, start your evening with dinner at Jacques-Imo's for some real-deal Creole soul food, then catch a set of live brass or funk at the Maple Leaf Bar. By the time the band packs up around 1:00 or 2:00 AM, you'll be in the perfect headspace to walk the few blocks down to Snake and Jake's to wind down the night. Just remember: once you step through that door, leave your phone in your pocket and let the darkness do its thing.