Another bar called Alibi opened recently in the West Village, says veteran drinks-slinger Tommy O’Connell; but he insists that this Brooklyn saloon is “the real one.” By the looks of it, he’s right. Splitting the difference between Mars Bar and Bull McCabe’s, Alibi’s Irish owners have eschewed the hep low-culture resonance of some East Village dives for a more natural (albeit graffitied), timeworn aesthetic, and favor a few Gaeilge street signs and traditional log fire over mock-Irish patina (e.g., those ubiquitous writers’ murals). The drinks are cheap: Alibi offers a completist’s menu of Brooklyn beers ($3 a pint from 6 to 8) and a $1 Bud special (5 to 7), good for the days-before-payday wallet. The Guinness is passable, though at times hurried. You can’t always blame them. Described by manager Owen O’Gorman as a late-night spot (it’s open till 4 daily), you’ll find it Pratt-packed until the wee hours on a Thursday. But ignore them: Find redneck heaven on Big Buck Hunter II (“No such thing as a bad day to hunt!!”), play the well-stocked jukebox, or get in line for pool (there’s an ongoing tourney every Monday night). Hair of the dog? Spicy Bloodys without the nasty aftertaste ($4) till 7 on weekends.