The Most Depressing Image: 10-12 young ladies, decked out in shiny little dresses, 5” heels and entirely too much makeup, bouncing with excitement and glee towards Stella. Or Banq (come on BanQ, get over yourself with that damn Q!). Or, worst of all, The Beehive – a South End jazz bar with an inappropriately large ego, demonstrated by their holding up the line every empty weekday night.
What makes me want to cry is that these beauties have no idea that the place they’re so keen on going, the place they’ve heard so much about, is 90% restaurant, 8% bar, and 2% bar seating area. They’ll spend an entire night shifting from foot to foot as their shoes become more and more uncomfortable, sipping $15 drinks and wondering when the party will actually begin.
But alas. This is the party. Swank and sexy at times, sure, but in desperate need of a little revving...
Can you believe that there’s no spot in the South End where patrons can shake it a little on the dance floor? This baffles me, what with all the crazy money-spenders, pseudo-celebrities, young couples and uber-handsome gay men that the South End attracts. I thought the owners of Mantra would bring some dancing to the South End with Banq, but the only thing they carried were their leather-clad fans (seriously, I’ve seen red dominatrix outfits in Banq) and general not-quite-right-ness.
I’m thinking Stella will make the move first. They’ve actually got a hidden gem of a back room (who knew?) equipped with a relaxed bar, plenty of floor space and room for a DJ booth. Weekend dance parties at Stella would be huge – a fulfilling blend of Stella’s millennium-chic and, er, movement.
Because there are too many bars in the neighborhood for sitting standing around and acting cooler than you actually are. I want to go to a South End bar and end up making ridiculous dance-y faces like this: