The word is out on this semi-secret lair—a friendly, laid-back watering hole that caters to a mixed crowd of local hipsters, singles, and hipster singles in a space so cozy it’s either packed or it’s dead.

Hyperion Tavern is a local dive bar, and wants to keep it that way. Located in a space that once housed a leather bar called Cuffs, its present, decidedly less bondage-friendly incarnation as a neighborhood bar has been embraced by a legion of in-the-know Eastsiders. The chaps and chains are gone, and now the dark, tiny space is decked out with two oversized chandeliers, a giant projector screen, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with California Appellate Reports from the '40s (random!), and a tune-challenged upright piano right under the DJ booth. (The creepily scrawled “Slave Toilet” on the ladies’ restroom is the only reminder of the space’s seedier past.) You won’t find a caramel-apple martini—or even a diet soda—here; Hyperion’s cash-only bar serves a no-frills menu of beer, ginger beer, coffee and the occasional Markarita. Music is a free-for-all mix of everything under the indie sun, from obscure '80s synth-pop to even more obscure Tom Jones cover songs. First timers and budding air guitarists, should check out the action on Guitar Hero Wednesdays, when Hyperion’s tiny, wooden stage is rocked by dueling virtual guitarists who strut their strats like amateur Bill & Teds. Excellent! —Amir Kenan