WWFB: “We Need to Talk About Montréal’s Speakeasy Problem” Edition (Part 1)
French Canada sure does love to hide its drinking establishments.
The scene: Montréal, Canada. It’s a beautiful summer day. You want to find yourself a speakeasy!
The Google leads you to The Cloakroom, tucked away behind an unmarked door just beyond this fancy-ass men’s clothing store/tailor/hipster barber/designer denim boutique (say each of those with a question mark at the end because I really have no idea what it was).
You stand outside the brown wood-paneled door and wait. You wonder if there’s a buzzer to buzz, a bell to bing, a hidden camera to look nonchalant for. But there’s nothing. You just…wait.
Eventually, a mustachioed mixologist who speaks 5 languages peeps out from behind the door and beckons you inside to an elegant bar with seats for 9 patrons. He asks you a few sorting-hat-type questions of the kind you might encounter on a covert Russian data mining operation masquerading as a Facebook personality quiz (“You like tequila and mountains? Your Superhero alter ego is Spiderpig and you should retire to Kotor, Montenegro!”) — he’s very thorough — and then a few splashes of this, a few dashes of that, some shake-shake-shake, and suddenly he pours into a glass in front of you the liquid equivalent of your soulmate.
VERDICT: 11/10. Come for the mystery…stay to meet three of your soulmates…and then leave because it turns out your soulmates are extremely strong and you aren’t sure you can handle what’s behind Door #4.
