This sort of thing has happened before. Remember back when?

We get a lead on a nifty place that’s opened. So we go and check it out. And indeed it’s slammingly cool: the almost-perfect bar. All hidden and underground, with no sign out front. Inside plush, warm and inviting. An unpublished phone number. A penciled menu. Boudoir-like.

And we get all excited, and are dying to tell you.

Then the owner starts to hem and haw, saying he’s not ready, he doesn’t want the press yet. (Yes, that means he doesn’t want the likes of you trampling around the place.)

But, we can’t keep it to ourselves. We think you, as faithful subscribers deserve to know.

So we hint at it instead.

Think of one of the name of one of the more famous Billy Wilder flicks. Think the wild west we keep writing about. Think of a street with an unlucky number…and the smarter ones of you should be able to figure it out. Or else you have that always-in-the-know friend can surely assist.

Go knocking on doors. Have fun.