№ 01The Smoked Alibi
Mezcal · charcoal salt · rosemary smoke
Served at the bar by the man with the broken watch. Don't ask what time it is.

A traveling speakeasy where the staff are characters, the cocktales are chapters, and the room disappears at the end of the season.
Speakeasies have been pretending for a decade. Pretty rooms, forgettable nights. We are doing the opposite. The room is only the stage. The evening is the show. And you — yes, you, in the second booth — are in it.
— From the Director's Note
The Current Chapter
Spring 1925

Midnight
in Paris
The Scene
A back-room café off the Boulevard Montparnasse. The Lost Generation is loud tonight. Hemingway is at the bar. Zelda has not stopped talking. Cole is at the piano and you, somehow, know the words.
The Menu, Vol. IV
Six signature drinks, three light bites, all written for this scene and this scene alone. Here are the first three.
№ 01Mezcal · charcoal salt · rosemary smoke
Served at the bar by the man with the broken watch. Don't ask what time it is.
№ 02Gin · elderflower · crushed violet
A petal floats on top. She'll tell you it means something. It does.
№ 03Old Tom · grapefruit cordial · sea salt
Short. Bracing. True. You'll order a second one before you mean to.
…and three more revealed only at the table.
House Rules
A redacted address arrives by post three days out. A password. An unmarked door. The cast is already in the room. The scene began before you got there.
Your server is Zelda. Your bartender is Ernest. The pianist will know your name by your second drink. They are scripted only in skeleton; the rest is yours.
Six drinks, named for the characters and the moments. Order them in any order — or let the bartender choose for you, which is the better game.
Ninety minutes. The lights come up. The room is dismantled by morning. Next quarter it will reappear, transformed, somewhere else entirely.
The Archive
Each chapter runs once. There are no encores.
Now PlayingVol. IV
Spring · 1925
ClosedVol. III
Winter · 1932
ClosedVol. II
Autumn · 1962

Membership
For the ones who want to follow the story wherever it goes. A leather passport, stamped at every chapter you attend. Priority booking. Addresses one week early. An accumulating record of the rooms you've been inside.
From the Stage Door
Never. The cast plays the scene whether you join in or simply watch from a velvet booth with a drink in your hand. Most guests start as observers and finish as co-conspirators. That is the trick of it.
Dress for the chapter, or dress for yourself. We'll send a costume note with your confirmation — a hat, a color, a pinned flower. None of it is required. All of it is encouraged.
Three days before your seating, you'll receive a redacted address and a password. Bring both. Tell no one. The door is unmarked and the cast is already waiting.
Yes. Private chapters for parties of 18–40 can be commissioned in any era we've staged, or built fresh around your occasion. Write us through the membership desk.
The Stage Whisper
Reservations open three weeks before the curtain. Members go first. The list goes second. Then it's gone.
Next Chapter Address
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Released 3 days prior