Strip clubs and steakhouses.
If you squint really hard (and if “Pour Some Sugar on Me” isn’t currently blaring over the PA system), it’s entirely possible to confuse the two.
Especially in Miami.
And especially when there’s someone in a leopard bikini gyrating no more than 20 feet from your filet.
Take a peek at Wonderland, a plush playground of dry-aged meat and suggestive dancing, now open on Biscayne.
You might remember when this was Boulevard. Actually, don’t. Just know that the entire joint has now been renovated by a local nightclub impresario. So, gone are the grimy seats and rundown booths. In their place: gossamer cabanas. Embroidered velvet chairs. Also, a pretty killer grilled chorizo.
Which in a way makes this spot at least partially date-appropriate. Especially if you stick by the dark wood bars, flag down a waitress (she’ll be at least 76% dressed) and order a complimentary round of bubbly, perfectly seared steaks and some truffled mashed potatoes (note: you can’t tip for dances with mashed potatoes).
Depending on what course the evening is taking, you may want to eventually check out the private Sky Room. It’s a discreet little nook that’s up a flight of stairs, behind a set of unmarked doors and equipped with plenty of suede couches. You can probably deduce what sort of things go on in the Sky Room.
Hint: it’s not Parcheesi.
If you squint really hard (and if “Pour Some Sugar on Me” isn’t currently blaring over the PA system), it’s entirely possible to confuse the two.
Especially in Miami.
And especially when there’s someone in a leopard bikini gyrating no more than 20 feet from your filet.
Take a peek at Wonderland, a plush playground of dry-aged meat and suggestive dancing, now open on Biscayne.
You might remember when this was Boulevard. Actually, don’t. Just know that the entire joint has now been renovated by a local nightclub impresario. So, gone are the grimy seats and rundown booths. In their place: gossamer cabanas. Embroidered velvet chairs. Also, a pretty killer grilled chorizo.
Which in a way makes this spot at least partially date-appropriate. Especially if you stick by the dark wood bars, flag down a waitress (she’ll be at least 76% dressed) and order a complimentary round of bubbly, perfectly seared steaks and some truffled mashed potatoes (note: you can’t tip for dances with mashed potatoes).
Depending on what course the evening is taking, you may want to eventually check out the private Sky Room. It’s a discreet little nook that’s up a flight of stairs, behind a set of unmarked doors and equipped with plenty of suede couches. You can probably deduce what sort of things go on in the Sky Room.
Hint: it’s not Parcheesi.
