Downtown.
It’s a very... functional place.
Particularly if you’re a tourist (read: from Dacula) and you came to tour CNN (read: stare at Ted Turner’s mustache).
Or if you like spiked punches.
Especially if you like spiked punches.
Presenting Studio No. 7, a confidently laid-back city lounge that’s got rum for days (and days and days), soft-opening June 19.
Think of this as your break-in-case-of-emergency bar. A semi-hidden, Caribbean-leaning refuge for the next time you find yourself turned around in the Coke-y, Olympic-y, sperm-whale-y confines of Downtown.
Perhaps you just finished an intimately sweaty evening at the Tabernacle. And now your date desires a nightcap (in either rum punch or bowl of curried shrimp form). Hence, you head here. Enter. Look right. That’s a rum bar. It’s got rum. And that’s it. So, get a rum. Then move on. There’re more bars to see.
Like the one in the back-left that’s stocked with low-slung white couches, surrounded by a wall of rare reggae 45s and supplied with the occasional soothing sounds of a man named Bob Marley.
It’s all enough to make you wish there were some sort of Edison-bulb-lit elevated lounge space here. One that you could get all types of comfortable in.
Well, too bad, there isn’t one.
Just kidding, there totally is.
It’s a very... functional place.
Particularly if you’re a tourist (read: from Dacula) and you came to tour CNN (read: stare at Ted Turner’s mustache).
Or if you like spiked punches.
Especially if you like spiked punches.
Presenting Studio No. 7, a confidently laid-back city lounge that’s got rum for days (and days and days), soft-opening June 19.
Think of this as your break-in-case-of-emergency bar. A semi-hidden, Caribbean-leaning refuge for the next time you find yourself turned around in the Coke-y, Olympic-y, sperm-whale-y confines of Downtown.
Perhaps you just finished an intimately sweaty evening at the Tabernacle. And now your date desires a nightcap (in either rum punch or bowl of curried shrimp form). Hence, you head here. Enter. Look right. That’s a rum bar. It’s got rum. And that’s it. So, get a rum. Then move on. There’re more bars to see.
Like the one in the back-left that’s stocked with low-slung white couches, surrounded by a wall of rare reggae 45s and supplied with the occasional soothing sounds of a man named Bob Marley.
It’s all enough to make you wish there were some sort of Edison-bulb-lit elevated lounge space here. One that you could get all types of comfortable in.
Well, too bad, there isn’t one.
Just kidding, there totally is.
