The night before a masquerade is the best night of the year to be in this room, and I will tell you why. Everyone is a little restless, nobody is in costume yet, and the whole bar hums like a secret about to slip.
So tonight we lean into it. Mischief Night in the Red starts at eight. The lights go down a shade, the candles come out along the bar, and the bartenders pour a three-glass Mischief Flight: a smoked cherry sour, a spiced pear highball, and a small, wicked pour of the Midnight Veil for anyone who missed it this week.
At the end of the bar you will find the Mask Table. Pick one now, try it on under the red light, and we will hold it with your name on it until Saturday. Black lace, velvet, feathers, bone white. First come, first masked.
The kitchen is sending out devilled eggs with smoked paprika and a plate of black garlic wings, and the pumpkin bourbon cheesecake stays on the board through the weekend.
The house band plays a quiet set of slow, dark covers after ten, and the booths in the back stay open for anyone plotting their entrance for tomorrow night. Saturday belongs to the Masquerade and Wolves of Tenth Street. Tonight belongs to the mischief.
I will be by the Mask Table. Come let me pick one for you.
- Scarlett
Talk at the rail