And if said theater happens to involve dim lights, jalapeño margaritas and impossibly beautiful women removing their clothing in an artful manner...
Well, that wasn’t at all what you were expecting, but even better.
Fade in on The Emerson Theatre, a casually immense hall of sliding garters and raucous cocktailing—opening Wednesday.
Things you won’t see here: plays, movies, bass-heavy trailers for movies coming out in seven and a half months. Things you will see here: velvet curtains, a few thousand marquee lights, a bunch of little stages and some stunning Prohibition-styled girls sitting around reading Pinter. Or dancing provocatively. One or the other.
So what you’ll do is come with a bunch of friends who... haven’t been to the theater in a while. But they’ve been to Greystone Manor. (Like that spot, this is an sbe endeavor.) Make your way through the slabs of granite and streaks of brass to your curving red banquette.
You’ll drink Melon Cartels (think tequila and honeydew). You’ll do some dancing. You’ll make the acquaintance of a limber performer who you probably won’t be taking home to Mom and Dad.
Their burlesque standards are obnoxiously high.