The WomanA finely attired minx enters the room, inately knowing her feminine wares are enhanced by the ornate surroundings. Her tender curves lean on the smooth marble surface, her task solely to quench the thirst that’s been building since she slipped on her slight costume for the evening, one that has been getting complimented and accentuated by her sashaying to the rhythm of the night, one that’s increasing the desire in the wandering gentleman’s eye. With her potion requested and acquired, she purses her lips in anticipation, ready to savour the cold trickle of sweet nectar of the Gods, prepared by the angels behind the bar. Knowing she holds the gaze and concentration of the omnipresent, she uses her guile to deflect and then to re-engage with her confidants with a knowing look, one to signify it’s now their turn to fascinate the fawning fellows.
The ManWith a devilish grin, this conjurer of charm knows he’s up for an evening of frivolity. He chose his cologne on the basis of its last reaction and reminisces on the bounty last attained, knowing he’s going to surpass it tonight, to raise the bar if you will. Fastening the clasp on his watch as he strolls toward the alley way, he knows now is the right time to get into character. The subliminal response his footsteps make on the cobblestoned pathway leading up to the glorious entrance is evident. The entrance is now emitting a radiant pulsating heat, reminding him that nothing less than his A-game will suffice this evening, for his adversary tonight deserves the best he has to offer. He pauses at the entrance, as is his wont. His lips motion a silent mantra, summoning the virility of all men, the wit of the beguiling and the debonair of Fred Astaire. With a thrust and a movement of the hips he enters and gets into the swing of it, all replete with a smile that melts the first fair maiden that catches his eye, thus beginning his first enchantment of the night.
The DrinksAll the decadent and delightful drinks on offer at Baroq are meticulously prepared to meet and satiate the demanding and deserving clientele by a band of the best mixologists Melbourne has to offer. Ever wondered what goes on in the frantic minds of these purveyors’ of pour? If so read below:
- Have just re-read The Joy of Mixology and am thoroughly inspired to transform our patrons’ night into one big taste explosion. Having perfected Baroq’s famous White Chocolate and Passionfruit martini, I’m going to blow people away with some new concoctions tonight.
- Every time I reach for Belvedere, I chuckle. I remember the butler from the TV show Mr Belvedere. I laugh because he served others exactly the way I do now, except I do it with aplomb and to some tables by the bottle!!
- POP! A bar environment is filled with cases of onomatopoeia with my favourite one of all signifying opulence, revelry and victory. No one, I repeat no one, opens up a bottle of Veuve Clicquot like me – I’m the boss.
- The crew has begun to rock up – I know what they want and head in their direction to serve them promptly – seems like they’re in for a big night and like they are going round for round – love my regulars!
- My first non-drinker is in the house (guessing she’s the designated driver) and seeing as this is my first mocktail for the evening, I’ve decided on using a berry combination as per her instructions, “to blow me away with something as sweet and inviting as my lips”. (note to self – must enter her into our patron of the night competition)
The MusicWhilst the days of taking their disciples on a vinyl voyage are figuratively gone, the DJ’s quests to make them shake their money maker are not. Their artillery has gone the way of the world… digital. Where once these warriors carried cases and slews of 12 inch bombs ready to launch on the D-floor, their bravado hath now shrunk to acronymic MP3. But don’t be fooled into a false sense of delusion, for they still wield and command their beats, their bass lines, their melodies, their horns, and their geeetars as they ever have. Baroq’s DJ’s are generals on the battlefield, not simply foot soldiers out of their depth, Baroq’s generals are masters of their domain ready for the battle, nay, for the victory of hip thrusts, body rolls, kicks, whips and turns of which when the night is through, you will look at them, saluting them in appreciation at their dominant display on the ones and twos.
The CorporateShe turns to look at the clock on the wall, after staring it down for a minute she could swear that the minute hand went backwards, further delaying her start to the weekend. “Working 9 to 5, what a way to make a living” is playing on the radio, whilst her inner subconscious is singing “I can’t wait for the weekend to begin”. Being the new girl at work means she needs to impress her colleagues and superiors, hence the reason she brought an outfit change for Friday night drinks. It will be a great chance to get to know everyone without the pressure or sterility of her workplace, plus she hopes they notice her new shoes. C’mon she thinks, is it Baroq o’clock yet?