by Jane K. on The purple spotlights outside gave me ominous inklings as I approached this MePa lounge early on a weeknight. Since I was there to attend a private event I didn't have to deal with any of the door stress that I'd heard rumblings about. So I name dropped to the two smirking girls at the door...feeling a bit like I was in high school again and these were the bitchy girls deciding whether my shoes were expensive enough to be cool. Lose the 'tude ladies, your job is to check names off a list. Once inside I found myself surrounded by curtains. Literally, there are no walls or doors...just a crap load of drapery. Just as I was about to become "that girl who flipped out in the Provocateur hallway" I fell through a slit into the main room. There was something almost cartoony about the place. Filled with attractive imbibing hipsters, potted plants and oversized velvet couches, there is something disorienting about the space. Since it was a Bombay Sapphire shindig the waitresses were passing these amazing pineapple gin drinks that were flat out delish. The staff was actually pretty friendly (besides the ridiculous lonely door girls) and the bartenders certainly knew what they were doing. As the lounge filled up it became less fun and more of a waiting game at the bar so we moved on. It's a gorgeous and flexible space with some pretty incredible cocktails to boot so I can definitely see a return visit in the cards. I'll just have to make sure that my GPS is working.
by am c. on It is true that The Box reeks of the sort of decadence that one might imagine preceding the fall of an empire. emcee Raven O smooths the wrinkles of your harried, Patrician brow, and Velocity Chyaldd, doing something unmentionable with cutlery, distracts you from the barbarians at the gate. The Hammerstein Beauties shake their tail-feathers beguilingly and, like the crowd, the room, while arguably only a cleverly and expensively painted imitation of something genuine, is beautiful. Yes, like The Colosseum before it, The Box may well be a symptom of a society that has outgrown itself, but it is not the cause and, when you stand, old and weary, amongst the ruins of our civilization, wouldn't you rather be able to say, "I was there!"
