From faux-suave men's email newsletter UrbanDaddy, which aims to keep you abreast of the latest lifestyle hotness, comes a riddling and obtuse exercise in "service journalism:"
You know we work hard for you. Once in a blue moon, though, we come across a pretty credible threat (pain of death, or at least major verbal bludgeoning) meant to keep us from covering something. We still uphold our civic duty to report, but forgive us for being more cryptic than usual.
Because we've seen the goods, and well, this spot's worth trying to keep away from the 15-second hype.
Just a few steps north of some locked-down greenery, there's a side door hosted by a discriminating gentleman brandishing a very short list.
Inside, you'll find what looks like the main room of a gothic Spanish villa, with blood-red velvet drapes, a shapely liquor display, and a massive carved fireplace big enough to walk into (if you don't mind a little heat). Clack some cues on a red pool table and lean back on the room's giant rugged wooden columns that would make Paul Bunyan proud. The old-school music fits just right. The loo is lounge-friendly with unisex mingling, luxe seating and a subtle passage off to the side.
Okay, so to recap: There is a place that exists and it is good. Gee, thanks, Urban Daddy. Nevertheless, this enigmatic stupidity has piqued our interest. So what's the place? Tell us what you know, and we'll ruin this shit quicker than La Esquina on a slow news day.
UPDATE: The general consensus is that the venue is the lounge in Ian Schrager's new Gramercy Park Hotel. Which makes sense, since the place opened last night — and everyone knows about it, too, thus making UrbanDaddy's clandestine commentary even more imbecilic than previously assumed.