On a side street in central Austin stands a large brick building painted white, with a wrought-iron porch that's green. All available clues suggest that the building now stands vacant. Walk around to the side, however, and you see a curious sign painted on the wall.

A large, disembodied hand points downward toward the basement. Bar, the sign declares.
     The easy-to-miss byway happens to dead-end at the manicured grounds that surround the pink granite Capitol Building where the business of the state of Texas gets done. Hence the name of the establishment: the Cloak Room, named after an anteroom off the floors of the U.S. House and Senate. As everybody knows, Texas is a big place, and therefore its legislature is full of individuals whose work takes them far from home. Some of these individuals may sound moralistic, but they don't always act that way, particularly after a couple of cocktails.
     I went back late one afternoon, while the sun was slanting in the door in a solid block of swirling light. It was right before the Republican Convention and a bunch of young right-wingers were yammering about George W. Bush, drinking hard and smoking heavily. I ordered a beer and went to sit at a corner table and thought about the first time I came here.
     A one-time boyfriend brought me. His name was George, and he was a connoisseur of dive bars and odd bars and bars in strange places. I used to dredge up true stories for his entertainment, then he would tell elaborate tall tales. I was pretty sure that things hadn't happened quite the way that he said, but I could never get him to admit that that was the case. Dating George was like that in general. He was hard to pin down. A nice guy, but elusive. Later, I found out that while George was dating me he was also dating a woman in Kansas City, a woman in New York City and a woman in Tokyo.
     When we walked in that night, it was dark and the jukebox was roaring. George told me stories of all the legislators who used to take their mistresses there. When I went back, I decided that the Cloak Room was the right place for George and me. It's the perfect place for a guy who's not ready to offer the truth, and for a girl who is still interested in illusions. It's a great bar for a certain type of romance: fleeting.

The Cloak Room
1300 Colorado Street, Austin
(512) 472-9808
Recommended drink: Martini — with very big olives.
(Photograph by Shannon McIntyre)

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