mello.
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it’s so gorgeous, it looks like a movie. A slice of life from the 1920s, it’s done as a 1900’s library. As you get in, it’s like a florist. A staff member helps you enter, you have to find a code in a small cluttered but intimate space. Also you have to know the password to enter the door to the place first of all. They guide you and help you to find it. Once the secret door opens, you enter, the aroma of incense that’s been kept for decades hits your nose. You are told the rules, and you follow without problem out of respect for the place. Walking in, it’s a sensation like none other. Wonder, amazement, and curiosity. All of which are cured and soothed by the drinks or looking around. Maps, artifacts, books books books, and potions. Recipes for them too. The soft copper colored lights, taxidermied animals, showcases and the welcoming atmosphere. Your ears are taken off guard by the soft jazz emanating from the walls. Temperature is just right. The alcohol, although expensive, is a journey worth your earthly money. The frozen copper of a Moscow mule, the fresh fruits bought that day in a calvino. You look around at the plumage of birds, feathered pens.
This is not simply attention to detail, it’s a clear, precise obsession over it. Curated over what feels to be lifetimes, a wealth of knowledge incomprehensible to anyone under or not under the influence of any substance. Jacks library. A window into another time you can feel, touch, taste and smell.