Diamonds are cool and stuff, but women also love Big Buck Hunter, strong bloodies, and wordplay. In the basement of Spring Street, Club Underground hosts acronym battles and the Pundemonium pun slam every third Wednesday of the month, where sharp-tongued wordsmiths skewer each other with double entendre. It's all very risqué. Upstairs, it's loud and boisterous over the weekends, casual and intimate and stacked with regulars on weeknights. The summer patio scene is serious, steeped in clouds of cigarette smoke and rampant with friendly, drunken banter. It's not a bad bar at which to hang out alone with a book, or challenge a first date to pool and darts. There's a lot to do, and the drinks are cheap.