The Best Atlanta Bars to Cry At

Crying in bars is a universal experience, at least according to TikTok, our local friends who frequent bars, and the ones who tend them. It’s also actually good for you — crying releases oxytocin and endogenous opioids, AKA endorphins, which help to relieve both emotional and physical pain — and it’s a lot more fun than crying at a park, in the car, alone at home, or on an airplane.

We asked for some stories (no one shall be named) and based on personal experience, Atlanta’s a pretty solid city for commiserating with a bevy in hand. Whether mourning a loss, having a celebratory weep, finding new ways to practice gratitude, or parting with strong emotions, these local watering holes will welcome you with open arms.

Breaker Breaker

This open-air Beltline bar is such a good place to cry, I actually cried there myself a few weeks ago. Blame it on the fans meant to keep you cool, or the sun being too bright, or a bug flying into your eye — viable excuses are endless here. Maybe you’re from Florida and the tears are brought on by the fish dip being just as good as it is back home. Start with a seasonal boozy slushie and at some point the bartenders will probably ask if you want a free shot, whether you’re crying or not. When you’re ready for fresh air, walk it off on the boardwalk.

Clermont Lounge

A strip club might seem like a weird place to cry, but anything goes here, except photos of course, and since there’s no way to document your tears, no one will ever know. Feeling extra dramatic? Roll up at the Clermont for karaoke night on Tuesdays or Disco Saturdays, where your tears will blend in with all that sweat on the dance floor. Open late (3 a.m.) Monday through Saturday. The Clermont Lounge is cash only.

Sophia Van Dyk

Larakin

In service morning to evening, Wednesday through Sunday, this cafe-slash-wine bar just steps from Piedmont Park is one you can hang out at all day. Bring your emotional support pup, a laptop, a blanket, whatever — no one’s judging here. Just wear your biggest sunglasses and soak up the sunshine. If you’re sad because you’re not in Europe (*cries in Spanish*), this can be remedied with an order of tinned fish paired with a pet nat, a Basque vermouth, or a sherry from Andalusia.

Dark Horse Tavern

A Virginia Highland favorite for over 30 years, Dark Horse Tavern is divey, dark (obvi), and hosts live band karaoke. A friend from the Midwest recalls her experience here on a visit to Atlanta over a decade ago. “I was in the middle of a breakup with a man 16 years older than me, and I was hammering some sweet and fruity mixed drink, like a Long Island iced tea. I cried, then went home with someone,” she said, which sometimes is all you need to snap out of it.

Fishmonger

Newer to the Atlanta scene, Fishmonger has multiple locations around the city, but some would argue one is more conducive to crying than the others. The Kirkwood outpost has a full bar with beer, cider, wine, and sake, in addition to classic cocktails with a twist like a Gibson with corn gin, lavender, cucumber, and beet brine, and the bartenders are generally good-natured. A local friend cried here after having a really difficult day.

“I had been out in the heat, went to Fishmonger, and it all came out. It was horrendous — I can laugh about it now, but I was embarrassed,” she says. She befriended a girl who sent her a martini from the other end of the bar and she’ll never forget the bartender, who was laid-back and just let her hash it out and recap with friends.

Jonathan Phillips

Bar Margot

You never know who you’ll meet at a hotel bar and that’s part of the magic of plopping down on those fancy stools, no matter the mood. Inside the Four Seasons Hotel Atlanta, rub elbows with travelers from all walks of life for weddings, funerals, business, baby showers, romantic weekends away — you name it. With a daily cocktail hour from 3 to 6 p.m., this is the spot for an afternoon cry and the Medicine Man cocktail with bourbon, mezcal, ginger, and lemon, might be just what the doctor ordered. If something a little more hard-hitting is necessary, stay for the tableside martini experience, which is available Tuesday to Saturday from 6 to 10 p.m.

Octopus Bar

Want to cry alone, in the dark, while shoveling down some really good dry-fried eggplant and sipping on an orange wine? At Octopus Bar, no one will bother you, and you can order seconds (or thirds) without any judgment. A lot of service industry folks pass through here after their shifts or on days off, and night owls who live in the area pop in often. It’s one of those places that can only brighten your day no matter how dark it is in there (and it’s always dark in there). Chef Jared Warwick says, “We have seen a lot of breakups” which isn’t shocking when, for most, this is usually the last stop of the night (the bar opens after 10 p.m. and does last call at 2:15 in the morning).

Miss Conduck

For 15 years, this space on Edgewood Ave was home to Noni’s, a neighborhood bar and trattoria that served comfort food, sandwiches, wine, and more. Nothing says it’s okay to cry like a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs, and one regular felt so at ease here, it’s where she grieved the death of her best friend. And while the menu and vibe have changed quite a bit since Noni’s, the layout remains the same, which means you can still post up at the bar or hide in a velvety booth to drown your sorrows.

Lloyd’s

Lloyd’s

Have a not-great, low-commitment first date? After you part ways and pretend to head home, circle back to the bar instead for a negroni and order lasagna fries or mozzarella sticks. The servers are so nice here; they will roast your date and laugh with you, not at you. After you’ve had your fix and you start feeling better, pop over to Stereo next door for a nightcap.

Eleventh Street Pub, Dad’s, and others

One local bartender takes pride in the fact that she’ll cry anywhere at any time, including work. “I’ve cried at Eleventh Street Pub a thousand times, I’ve cried at Dad’s, I’ve probably cried at Moe’s & Joe’s — I’m also not afraid to cry,” she says, laughing. “I’ve cried while working at almost every job I’ve had, which is funny … have you ever seen a sad bartender?”

Customers do it, too, and she gets it. “One time this girl cried so hard at a neighborhood pub I was working at after her boyfriend broke up with her. She was wailing, crying over the music, and the entire bar was just sitting there in silence with the utmost respect. Nobody told her to calm down. I went and gave her a hug.”