St. Pete photographer preserves dive bar history by capturing their murkier side—the bathroom

front of brick building with red neon isgn that says "Mastery's".
Mastry's is located at 233 Central Ave.

Patricia Preston Mastry’s photography has preserved the unique legacy of dive bar culture. The photographer is a St. Pete Photo Laureate nominee, and her work will be featured at the Morean Arts Center (719 Central Ave) from May 10 to June 7, 2025 as part of the St. Pete Month of Photography.

For photographer Patricia Mastry, dive bars are the great equalizer—a place where pedigree and poverty vanish as soon as you cross the threshold into a dive’s eternal midnight. “[They’re] where a cross-section of society comes together in quiet salute to the powers of alcohol,” says Patricia. “Sadly, we are losing these grand little places.”

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While not much of a drinker herself, Patricia is no stranger to dive bars. Having married into the Mastry family, which has owned and operated Mastry’s Bar on Central Ave for 90 years, she fondly recalls spending evenings swapping gossip and politics over cold beer. Some of those conversations even spilled over into the bathroom, where patrons leave their mark in the form of “latrinalia”—bathroom graffiti that ranges from simple tags like “Michael was here” and “call [X] for a good time” to poems, doodles, and cheeky messages.

two urinals with tags and grafiti
For centuries, bathrooms have been marked as a kind of sociological record of the times they existed; only the mode of expression has changed. Photos by Patricia Mastry.

Bathroom graffiti dates back to 17th century and older

Bathroom graffiti is nothing new. In fact, latrinalia is part of a centuries-old tradition. An 18th-century Englishman known as Hurlo Thrumbo anthologized vintage graffiti during London’s Gregorian period in a collection titled The Bog-House Miscellany, published in 1731. One verse in the anthology reads:

“Well sung of Yore, a Bard of Wit
That some Folks read, but all folks [sh!t]
But now the case is alter’d quite
Since all who come to Boghouse write.”

This witty verse reflects the social attitudes and suppressed emotions of its time—covering forced marriages, economic hardships, familial betrayals, and commentary on the monarchy. As Patricia explains, “Dive bathrooms are indicative of the romances, politics, and general mood of the clientele.”

Today’s graffiti tags—quick signatures or symbols sprayed on walls—serve as the modern equivalent of those vintage inscriptions. In that way, the modern dive bar bathroom functions as a sociological record, capturing the spirit of its time. If dive bars disappear, these cultural records may vanish along with them.

Two urinals with stickers of a girl in the bowls.
Gator Lounge & Package, 1814 Tamiami Trail, Bradenton, FL. The urinals contain two Hanoi Jane Urinal Targets, which first appeared in the 1970s. Photo by Patricia Mastry.

An odd place for a sticker

Take The Gator Lounge and Package in Bradenton as an example. Built in the 1940s along one of the oldest commercial corridors in town, its men’s urinals bear two “Hanoi Jane Urinal Target” stickers on the back porcelain. The nickname “Hanoi Jane” was pejoratively assigned to Jane Fonda after her controversial visit to North Vietnam in 1972. The image of Fonda sitting on an anti-aircraft gun, along with her other actions during the war, ignited outrage among veterans.

The North Vietnamese exploited the photograph along with Fonda’s other actions—visiting prisoners of war and sites bombed by the US, and allowing herself to be interviewed for a communist broadcast—as propaganda, sparking the ire of veterans. Following Fonda’s actions, a US congressional committee investigated Fonda for treason, during which time, like a viral meme, “Hanoi Jane Urinal Targets” began appearing in dive bars across America, codifying the bars’ political attitudes—a vivid record preserved to this day at The Gator Lounge.

two black and white photos of mens bathrooms.
The Bends, located at 919 1st Ave N., St. Pete, (pictured left) allows stickers on the beam and hand dryer. All others are removed. The Brass Monkey, located at 709 Gulf Way #200, St Pete Beach, men’s room (pictured right) is logistically perplexing and devoid of scrawl, making it “one of the most (or least) interesting bathrooms around.” Photo by Patricia Mastry.

Must-visit local dives and bathrooms

Below is a list of local dives with quirky bathroom graffiti and/or bonkers layouts. Besides their bathrooms, each of these dives is a local gem that’s a must-visit for locals and visitors alike.

  • The Bends (St. Pete): A newer spot that embraces controlled vandalism in its bathroom—stickers and tags are allowed on the beam and hand dryer, while any graffiti elsewhere is promptly removed.
  • Emerald Bar (St. Pete): One of the last refuges for indoor smoking on Central Ave, its bathroom features distinctive marks like a green handprint pressed into a urinal.
  • Mastry’s (St. Pete): A contender for the oldest bar in St. Pete, Mastry’s is the quintessential dive and the inspiration behind Patricia’s 17-year photography project.
  • Brass Monkey (St. Pete Beach): Formerly the Bonhomie Hotel built in 1910, this spot offers one of the best sunset views on Pass-a-Grill. Patricia often ponders the quirky logistics of the men’s room urinal placement here.
  • The Tiny Tap Tavern (Tampa): One of the last true dive bars, operating since 1951 and still cherished for its old-school vibe.
  • Flamingo Sports Bar (St. Pete): A favorite haunt of writer Jack Kerouac, this dive competes with Mastery’s as one of the oldest bars in town and is popular among both professional and amateur pool players.
  • The Reservoir Bar (Tampa): A popular watering hole in Ybor City, this bar is the undisputed winner of Patricia Mastry’s graffiti award.
  • The Gator Lounge and Package (Bradenton): A 1940s establishment that not only houses iconic “Hanoi Jane Urinal Target” stickers but also stands as a testament to the era’s political and cultural expressions.

Through her lens, Patricia Mastry is preserving a disappearing world. Her photographs capture the murky, unpolished history of dive bar bathrooms—a unique record of cultural expression that speaks to the evolving story of local communities. As dive bars face pressures from rising rent, redevelopment, and changing consumer tastes, Patricia’s work makes a compelling case for preserving these soulful spaces and the stories they tell.

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