A few years ago, this place used to be called the Engine Room and it was the proud home of possibly the laziest bartender I have ever met.
She was gorgeous, which I imagine she felt excused her utter bone-idleness, but she was also proof that beauty is indeed merely skin-deep.
So lazy was she that she once waved at me to fill my own glass as she was too busy pouting into her phone.
Anyway, I came down here because I was meeting someone at Goldfinch's parent operation, Snapdragon, which is about as far removed in style from Goldfinch as is possible to imagine. Where one is full of rather whiffy plants and water features and every record Glen Campbell ever released, its new sister deals in hot beats and looks, well, like a very well-appointed bordello.
