You don’t require much from a late-night spot.
Just something modest... -ly airport-hangar-sized. With two... to 32 beers on tap.
And a giant mural of an owl’s eye. Maybe a Ronald Reagan head somewhere.
Like we said. Nothing much.
Behold the entrancing enormity of The Argosy, a dark and seductive new bar that would just be perfect for any dark-and-seductive-new-bar-related needs you may have, soft-opening Thursday in the East Atlanta Village.
This is from the Bookhouse and MJQ guys. So when you walk in, take a second to adjust. It’s dark. Massive. Looks like a cross between a ridiculously furnished cabin (expect a boar’s head next to the wood-burning oven) and the hull of a haunted pirate ship (expect vinyl skulls above the bar).
Go with it, though. It’ll all come together soon.
See, you’re in prime nightcap territory here. And if you’re aiming to finish that deep conversation about exploding meteors with some comely conspiracy theorist (and when are you not...), cut right and head up the stairs to a secluded booth. Have some pork-belly sandwiches and mini dogs and barrel-aged vodka cocktails sent over.
But more likely, you’re here for a bit of rabble-rousery around 2am. Claim a chunk of the jagged wooden bar on the left and have a Mother Earth Dark Cloud. Or one of the 31 other draft beers.
One down.
Just something modest... -ly airport-hangar-sized. With two... to 32 beers on tap.
And a giant mural of an owl’s eye. Maybe a Ronald Reagan head somewhere.
Like we said. Nothing much.
Behold the entrancing enormity of The Argosy, a dark and seductive new bar that would just be perfect for any dark-and-seductive-new-bar-related needs you may have, soft-opening Thursday in the East Atlanta Village.
This is from the Bookhouse and MJQ guys. So when you walk in, take a second to adjust. It’s dark. Massive. Looks like a cross between a ridiculously furnished cabin (expect a boar’s head next to the wood-burning oven) and the hull of a haunted pirate ship (expect vinyl skulls above the bar).
Go with it, though. It’ll all come together soon.
See, you’re in prime nightcap territory here. And if you’re aiming to finish that deep conversation about exploding meteors with some comely conspiracy theorist (and when are you not...), cut right and head up the stairs to a secluded booth. Have some pork-belly sandwiches and mini dogs and barrel-aged vodka cocktails sent over.
But more likely, you’re here for a bit of rabble-rousery around 2am. Claim a chunk of the jagged wooden bar on the left and have a Mother Earth Dark Cloud. Or one of the 31 other draft beers.
One down.
