The Investigation: Our man arrived a little after 8pm on a weeknight. He pushed through an unassuming green door and found himself inside a dimly lit space with what appeared to be a deliberate lack of décor and a proclivity toward old-school rap. So far, so “just a bar…”
But then, he slid into a burgundy-colored leather booth. A 30-strong list of classic drinks presented itself. Before he knew it, our PI was eating a Michelin-starred chef’s buffalo frog legs and sipping a delicious Caipirinha to the tune of Biz Markie’s “Just a Friend.”
The Conclusion: It’s probably weird that we hired a PI for this.