The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

Last night in the bar-restaurant at the Bedlam Theatre, I couldn't help feeling like I was in a play - to judge by the funky décor, maybe Lanford Wilson's Hotl Baltimore, or something by Beckett. Every few minutes, somebody would trudge through the bar - a woman carrying an enormous potted plant, a man pacing with a look of intense concentration. The bartender had a shiny metal ring in his nose. The bar and theater occupy the former Baja

Last night I finished my week's run of holiday parties/steak-binge with a soiree at Jax. I wore a kicky ruffled tux shirt and drank Dewar's all night, because that's what Jax calls for.