Look.

Up there, in the... uh, space above Five Guys.

It’s a bird.

It’s a plane.

No, it’s... very obviously neither of those things...

It’s The Garret, a lofty little cocktail spot tucked above a burger joint in the West Village, soft-open now.

This used to be your local Arizona Wildcats bar. (We’ll forgive you for not knowing that.) Now it’s your copper-topped, artists’ loft with on-tap punch named after a fictitious raccoon named Rocco... bar. Note the improvement.

Re: the loft. It’s what you might call cozy. The sort of “I know a place” place you’ll want to bring a romantic entanglement to after you’ve been to a few other places and things nearby.

And once you do, you’ll snag a couple of the tufted-leather cube chairs next to the (nonfunctioning) fireplace. The one with the mantel full of hourglasses. For now, content yourself with a Last Word—gin, lime juice, green Chartreuse and maraschino. But soon, a secret-menu Five Guys burger joins the party.

But you probably wouldn’t be interested in that after a night of drinking.