Identifying the oldest bar in New York City is a bit more subjective than objective, historical records infamously inaccurate about pesky details like opening dates, names of businesses and the natures of those businesses when one starts digging into years that start with an “18.” But by all accounts, Milano’s Bar on the border between SoHo and the Bowery in Manhattan is at least part of the ‘oldest bar in New York’ discussion thanks to an opening date of 1880.

Photos through the years show the Milano’s Bar exterior change just as the neighbors and nature of the Bowery-adjacent location have changed. The Bowery was at one time known as a particularly low income and run down piece of the city, Milano’s Bar one of a handful of businesses catering to patrons that ranged from homeless to struggling. As the fortunes of the area improved and the decades rolled by, each Bowery-area dive bar closed except for Milano’s.

So robust is the historic pedigree of Milano’s Bar that Nikola Tesla himself maintained a laboratory directly across the street from the New York dive bar’s current location between 1895 and 1899. Details about Milano’s Bar and its adherence to Prohibition are sketchy, though multiple accounts insist that the bar remained open. Most importantly, it is easy to picture Milano’s Bar as part of any decade, the tight footprint about as classic as a dive bar gets thanks to a long bar, tin roof and tile floor.

New York businesses can run a bit snug, Milano’s Bar very much playing into the theme thanks to a long bar that swallows up half of an already slender, shotgun-style space. Assorted low stools and chairs can be found in the rear of Milano’s Bar, a jukebox and television wedged into the scarce available space. Underneath the tin roof, framed phots from years past mingle with collages of photos taken of regulars throughout the years. String lights run the length of the space, augmenting an otherwise dimly-lit interior (the best kind of dive bar interior).

Originally named Tom Milano’s Bar & Grill, what was once a full menu that included veal now offers only an array of bagged chips behind the bar. The bar counter is, of course, ancient, as is the shelving behind the bar housing the Milano’s Bar liquor selection. The section of shelving directly adjacent to the bar’s front window is the most timeless-looking nook of an already impressively aged space. Dollar bills, clocks, framed photos, string lights, old sayings, Irish street signs, a who’s who of dive bar decorations is crammed into a tight corner of a tight portion of a tight New York dive bar.

Mercifully, a handful of fans hang down from the ceiling to stir air that can feel a little stagnant and a little heavy when patrons pack this small space during high traffic hours. Not to be missed is the sign above the inside front door that reads “For Those Who Know.” The slogan can be found scattered throughout the bar’s scant digital footprint and perfectly encapsulates the feeling of bumping into this narrow hallway of a dive bar so old that it counts Nikola Tesla as a neighbor.