px, near 728 king street, old town, alexandria

if you're interested in cocktail culture, search for the dim blue light. it's above a door located just barely off king street smack in the center of old town alexandria. behind eamonn's dublin chipper.

if it's on, px is open and there are people inside having super-intriguing cocktails. there's no sign letting you know the 20's fashioned speakeasy exists. if you haven't heard about it through the grapevine, how would you know? if you're in the know you're in the know. but make a reservation. or it's likely you won't get in. it's probable you won't get in.

lucky for you if you didn't know, there's me to impart these tidbits.

when px opened, you used to have to call to get the password or peruse the paper in a secret section to locate it. now, if you go to www.eamonnsdublinchipper.com, scroll all the way to the bottom on the right hand side, you'll see px. click on it, and it's easy to then make a reservation. turns out they have one time left for the night i'm to go: 11:30 pm. which is perfect, because i happen to have a date scheduled for this exact time. huh?


sous chef from last friday's escapade asked me out. for a cocktail. at 11:15 pm.

what the? are you jokin me? nope. this boy works round the clock. i know all the dating advice would say, run-don't-walk. who asks a girl out for 11:15 pm and expects cute fun girl to show up? [to that i say: phooey. it's not like anything else i've tried has worked of late. why not shake things up? this girl's got nothing to lose, but a little sleep and like i always say, i'll sleep when i'm dead.] besides, this guy lives in the 703, and practically the same zip, something i never explore, as you know. bonus.

my summer's about to become all about me and the fun i'm gonna have so i'm willing to be flexible. give it a whirl. never been on a date starting at 11:15 pm. anyway, i myself have an event tonight which will get me home just in time to prep for 11:15 pm date with sous chef. parfait. that's french for perfect.

i know you're worrying sick like i was: what's a girl to wear? you can't get thoroughly dolled up like normal. yet, it's a first date and you can't go unceremoniously relaxed-looking either. you gotta be casual-stylish-and-ever-so-slightly sparkly. it is still a date. i consider myself lucky to have the perfect perfect for nearly every occasion. [it's my hobby. and i believe that if you build it they will blah, blah, blah.]

so off i go at 11:14 pm towards old town. i pick him up outside his resto and we head down the street in search of the dim blue light.

px opened about three years ago. i happened to visit its very first night. i haven't returned and i'm not sure why. perhaps because one friend did a high jump over the arm of and onto the 200 year old sofa, breaking its foundation, creating an embarrassing little stir. someone might've recognized if i reappeared too soon. i believe it's safe to return.

it's ultra-exclusive - but don't be intimidated by this. you too can get in. but please act civilizedcool when you do. or charming. or look cute. me, i'm exhibiting all of these, so i'm good to go.

px stands for person extraordinaire, in france the word for VIP. px is owned by cathal and meshelle armstrong of restaurant eve, the majestic, eamonn's dublin chipper and px. along with dc-coolio cocktail master, todd thrasher.

mr. thrasher's cocktails are prepared like food. everything from scratch, except the alcohol. all the juice, fresh. and seasonal. homemade bitters, syrups and foams, even using tobacco in the cocktail, smoker's delight. ingredients include yuzu, hot peppers and cucumber and ginger, to name a few. he uses garnishes such as fresh glistening sticky honeycomb that gently melts into your cocktail while you sip - yummy. and pretty. he smashes, muddles, sets fire to things - to improve the flavor, bring out the natural oils and create additional drama so your drink is the best it can be. you must be patient for these concoctions though. it takes at least 5 minutes for the bartender to prepare each one. and sometimes longer.

so, we ring the doorbell, and in the little barred window of the ancient door a face appears asking us what we want. there's no password anymore, which i sort of wish they wouldn't have done away with. i tell the hostess i have a reservation. she opens the door and asks us to wait on the landing of the steps. behind us, a couple gets rejected and turned away. too bad for them.

we're led up the extremely dark creaky steps into a barely lit bar. it's an historic townhome. all wordwork is original. antique imported chandeliers. there's a few people chatting it up with bartender. we're asked to sit at the bar rather than a table, which is good i think for a first date here. the bar menus are presented to us. and by the way, don't even think about ordering a gin and tonic: you will certainly look ill-bred and you might just get the boot. which would be tres embarrassing. i know, i know, you've got to be kidding in this time of economic hardships to have to go through the silly rigmarole. just play along though, and no one gets snubbed.

oh the bar menu. any menu this detailed sends anxiety running through my heart and head and tummy. i have grown to dislike choosing things for myself. plus if i'm honest, i'm no cocktail connoisseur. sous chef asks the bartender what he recommends. no love though. he kindly asks us to review the menu. every cocktail has no fewer than 4 ingredients. in small print. and it's dark. names include eamonns cocktail [which is what i start with], the most aggressive fish in the sea and other whimsical titles. i later had the best champagne cocktail with homemade cherry bitters. delish.

so sous chef and i have lots and lots to discuss of course. we chat like we've known each other for a great long time. only being interrupted by the bothersome and ostentatious dudes next to us, who have their cell phone ringers on, complete with blaring ringtones. for the love of obnoxious, chatty wannabes, thinking they're cool but they're so not, who does that anymore? vibrate, man, it's the only way. i'm a little surprised they're not asked to leave or to turn those ringtones off. especially when one asks the bartender if his cocktail is coming any time soon.

we enjoy two and a half cocktails before it's finally closing time - a respectable 2 am on a wednesday. as we're shown out by hostess, she mentions in a sweet but assured way, that men should not be wearing shorts and flip flops to px. in fact she shouldn't have let us in at all, but did because it was late and we had reservations. yes, i suspected that to begin with. i knew in my heart, after having just gotten off work the chance of sous chef looking mammoth-casual was likely. you can't tell someone to bring appropriate clothes. to a first date anyway.

the funny thing is, and if you know me, it's more strange and promising than funny: i hadn't paid a moment's attention to what sous chef was wearing. this could be good my friends. and btw it's fantastic to be reminded at least for now, that dating doesn't always leave you questioning wtf just happened?

we're getting together sunday. at a more practical time of day.

until then, i suggest open your mind to the fancy cocktail and drama of px. you'll find no lack of conversation in a fascinating and sexy setting.