A new, yet familiar, enjoyable experience
19 March, 2021
Where is this blog going? I ask myself this question a lot, find myself developing a lot of ideas, and it seems impossible to write my story in sequence because everything is so closely related and intertwined as I get an inspiration. In order to lay out a foundation for my story I’m finding it necessary to just write whatever is on my heart at that moment. The constant reevaluation is not productive, and it stifles the free structure of my message: it’s impossible to separate my professional interests from personal development, and I know neither of them is ever linear. The vulnerability component can’t be ignored either, or else my story is going to be predicated on a filtered approach that ignores the influences and inspirations taking place right now. Sure, it would be great to present my story in sequence, but let’s have a little fun and lay down the pieces of the puzzle as I pick them up from the pile, rather than searching tirelessly for the specific ones. As time comes the pieces will naturally find their places in the bigger picture – that’s the fun part.
On this topic of being free, I can’t help but think about an experience I had about six years ago in Kansas City. I was working on a project not far from Sedalia, Missouri (a small city about an hour and a half from KC) and had a weekend off for some rest after a tiring week. An evening prior to that I happened to read an article online about the Top 10 Bars I needed to visit before I die, and one of those bars was a place called Manifesto in KC. It was a speakeasy, you had to make reservations via text, and the ambiance looked really relaxed and secretive that I needed to check it out for myself. That weekend I texted the number that I found online but kept on getting an undeliverable message. So, I ended up calling the number just for the hell of it and ended up speaking to someone, made the reservations, and planned my trip there.
My GPS took me to this restaurant which looked nothing like the photos I saw of Manifesto online, but I knew it was the right address and figured the bar must be somewhere else in the building. I let the hostess know I had reservations at the bar, but she gave me an estranged look as she replied that I didn’t need reservations to sit at the bar but was welcome to sit at a table since my name was on the list. I was so confused and had to remind her that I had reservations for Manifesto. She chuckled and told me to follow her as she took me through a maze of hallways that led to a narrow, steep, and stone bult stairwell. A lady came up and asked if I had reservations, of course I said yes, but she said my name wasn’t on the list. I knew immediately that I must have called the wrong number, so I explained to her what happened. She was empathetic and went back down the stairs to ask if there was a spot for me since I was by myself. I waited a few minutes until she opened the dungeon door at the bottom of the stairs to let me know she got a spot for me at the bar. I walked down the stairs, through the door, and that’s when my perception of a cocktail bar changed forever.
It was a dark and cool place dimly lit with candles, I could smell the richness of aged whiskey and sweet bitters, hear the synchronized mixing of iced cocktails, and see a dozen or so people enjoying their delicious custom concoctions. The mixologists were dressed professionally and one of them welcomed me with a nicely folded menu and casual conversation. Cell phones were not allowed to be used inside, which was okay with me, but I only took it out once to take a photo. I felt like I was in an unknown environment, but at the same time felt very comfortable. It felt like a dungeon, but a dungeon with sensorial elements that stimulated my brain to tap into my memories and want to absorb the new goodness around me. It was so easy to create conversation with the bartenders and others sitting next to me, and I could only sit there with a big smile because there was this sense of freedom and community, as we were all there for similar reasons: relax, enjoy some cocktails, and enjoy company.
But, why were my memories resurfacing, and why did I feel so comfortable there? I was sure there were a number of reasons, not just because the “Beautiful Red Bell” was kicking in, but it occurred to me that this social environment was very familiar. By the way, a “Beautiful Red Bell” is Manifesto’s signature cocktail, and it is delicious! Sure, I’m extraverted and enjoy being around people, but there was something else that allowed me to feel comfortable. I found myself reminiscing about when I was a teenager working for Lewie parttime during my summer vacations, and thought about all the times we went out to lunch at some diner, restaurant, pub, deli, or hole in the wall food stand. They were all centered around service, social gathering, and food, but most of all they exposed me to so many people in various settings. The secretive and underground setting of Manifesto removed the everyday distractions (phone usage and extra decoration) which lent itself strictly to their service, social culture, and artistic expression of their alcoholic mixed beverages. Its environment was universal for anyone looking for a new, yet familiar, enjoyable experience, but its hospitality brought so much joy. I believe my past experiences allowed me to appreciate their accomplishment even more, because I felt free to participate in a new place that they created.
On this topic of being free, I can’t help but think about an experience I had about six years ago in Kansas City. I was working on a project not far from Sedalia, Missouri (a small city about an hour and a half from KC) and had a weekend off for some rest after a tiring week. An evening prior to that I happened to read an article online about the Top 10 Bars I needed to visit before I die, and one of those bars was a place called Manifesto in KC. It was a speakeasy, you had to make reservations via text, and the ambiance looked really relaxed and secretive that I needed to check it out for myself. That weekend I texted the number that I found online but kept on getting an undeliverable message. So, I ended up calling the number just for the hell of it and ended up speaking to someone, made the reservations, and planned my trip there.
My GPS took me to this restaurant which looked nothing like the photos I saw of Manifesto online, but I knew it was the right address and figured the bar must be somewhere else in the building. I let the hostess know I had reservations at the bar, but she gave me an estranged look as she replied that I didn’t need reservations to sit at the bar but was welcome to sit at a table since my name was on the list. I was so confused and had to remind her that I had reservations for Manifesto. She chuckled and told me to follow her as she took me through a maze of hallways that led to a narrow, steep, and stone bult stairwell. A lady came up and asked if I had reservations, of course I said yes, but she said my name wasn’t on the list. I knew immediately that I must have called the wrong number, so I explained to her what happened. She was empathetic and went back down the stairs to ask if there was a spot for me since I was by myself. I waited a few minutes until she opened the dungeon door at the bottom of the stairs to let me know she got a spot for me at the bar. I walked down the stairs, through the door, and that’s when my perception of a cocktail bar changed forever.
It was a dark and cool place dimly lit with candles, I could smell the richness of aged whiskey and sweet bitters, hear the synchronized mixing of iced cocktails, and see a dozen or so people enjoying their delicious custom concoctions. The mixologists were dressed professionally and one of them welcomed me with a nicely folded menu and casual conversation. Cell phones were not allowed to be used inside, which was okay with me, but I only took it out once to take a photo. I felt like I was in an unknown environment, but at the same time felt very comfortable. It felt like a dungeon, but a dungeon with sensorial elements that stimulated my brain to tap into my memories and want to absorb the new goodness around me. It was so easy to create conversation with the bartenders and others sitting next to me, and I could only sit there with a big smile because there was this sense of freedom and community, as we were all there for similar reasons: relax, enjoy some cocktails, and enjoy company.
But, why were my memories resurfacing, and why did I feel so comfortable there? I was sure there were a number of reasons, not just because the “Beautiful Red Bell” was kicking in, but it occurred to me that this social environment was very familiar. By the way, a “Beautiful Red Bell” is Manifesto’s signature cocktail, and it is delicious! Sure, I’m extraverted and enjoy being around people, but there was something else that allowed me to feel comfortable. I found myself reminiscing about when I was a teenager working for Lewie parttime during my summer vacations, and thought about all the times we went out to lunch at some diner, restaurant, pub, deli, or hole in the wall food stand. They were all centered around service, social gathering, and food, but most of all they exposed me to so many people in various settings. The secretive and underground setting of Manifesto removed the everyday distractions (phone usage and extra decoration) which lent itself strictly to their service, social culture, and artistic expression of their alcoholic mixed beverages. Its environment was universal for anyone looking for a new, yet familiar, enjoyable experience, but its hospitality brought so much joy. I believe my past experiences allowed me to appreciate their accomplishment even more, because I felt free to participate in a new place that they created.
