The Speakeasy

If you don’t love a good speakeasy you have no sense of adventure at all. When I graduated from college I had a BFF that went to work in Manhattan and I was so fortunate to take many trips to the big apple.  But even better than spending time there was having a local to show me around.  And we loved going to the bars with no names.  There’s something special about knowing where the locals go.  So far we have found only a couple of such places in Mexico City and here is where I’ll tell you about one of our local speakeasies.

A few weeks ago a friend visited from San Francisco, Marcel.  He used to live here in the City and in fact went to high school with Andy.  We were out to dinner, wrapping up and relaxing when Marcel mentioned he wanted to go hear some live jazz.  He recommended Parker and Lenox.  We hadn’t been but always love trying new places and even though we are not true lovers of jazz we went along to check the place out and extend the evening.  When we arrived at the address there was a building, yellowish in color with an unrecognizable symbol for their signage.  No street number, no name, no nothing to indicate we had arrived at the correct location.  When we peaked inside there were a few tables and a diner style bar.  There certainly wasn’t a stage present nor a sole in the place.  We walked the side streets hoping to happen upon the correct address.  But with no luck we returned to the original location to ask a hostess if they knew where it where it might be. 

She smiled and told us to follow her.  I thought she misunderstood was going to seat us at a table.  But we walked past all of the tables, down a long dark and narrow hall.  At the end she pulled back a long black velvet curtain that ran floor to ceiling and let us pass through.  We were there, in the jazz club with live music going in that familiar syncopated rhythmic patterns.  The place was full of people.  There was a bar with people standing from their seats and swaying on their feet.  There were loungers and pillows near the stage full of people looking up at the stage, watching the band, with smiles from ear to ear.  There was other various seating around the rather small room with the squat ceiling.  We were able to get what seemed to be the last small table near the door.  The drinks arrived quickly and the music was excellent jazz, although sans a singer.  It was strictly instrumental.  We sat for a couple of sets and enjoyed the night before saying goodbye to Marcel.  And the bonus?  Parker and Lenox is located blocks from our current apartment and we enjoyed a nice walk back.  And now that we know how to find the place we will certainly be back, especially with our visitors that want to go where the locals know.