How groovy! How positively shagadelic!
Some of the overstuffed white vinyl seats at the bar were - gasp - loveseats! Imagine - two swinging lovebirds could cozy up to the bar ("belly up" isn't quite the right image) and sip Long Island Iced Teas while spinning around the room. You wouldn't be able to tell if your vertigo was induced by the booze or the orbiting bar.
The "Royal Roost" loft wasn't open for business at the moment, but we did get a chance to see it for ourselves - after climbing the Brady-Bunch-Era steps, we saw the interior was still covered in a lavender shag, with a built-in bar and circular dance floor - and, not mentioned in previous literature - a one-way mirror connected to the adjacent upstairs manager's office, no doubt to discourage any hanky-panky in the loft (or more likely, to enable discreet spying). Sadly, the Roost's primary function is now for mere storage of essentials like glassware and table napkins.
A visit to the ladies' room was an adventure in itself: it was shaped like a wedge, with no right angles in sight (probably a bit disorienting after a few drinks) and wallpapered with red, purple and gold butterfly-design paper, it made everything else in the place seem almost conservative by comparison.
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