The Mustard Seed looks incredibly out of place among the multimillion-dollar condos and quaint confectioneries dotting Bellevue's Main Street. But its regulars would raise hell if the city were ever to propose tearing it down to make room for another organic-chocolate shop. That's because the beloved eyesore is one of the Eastside's few true dives—meaning it exists for the sole purpose of getting folks drunk. It doesn't have a kitchen. It smells like whiskey and cigarettes. The walls are covered in posters of half-naked chicks. The bar stools and pool tables are usually occupied by midafternoon. The Mustard Seed provides a much-needed alternative for blue-collar folks who aren't interested in dress codes or overpriced cocktails made with muddled limes. All that's required here is cash—because the ATM is broken and ain't getting fixed anytime soon.—Erika Hobart10253 Main St., Bellevue, 425-454-8848.