rumdiddlyumptious

we went to a bar last night where you first enter a ramshackle bedroom and then, pushing clothes and hangers aside, actually climb into the bedroom armoire, à la the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe. on the other side, you find yourself in cuba, à la guys and dolls or dirty dancing havana nights, with bottles of rum stacked to the ceiling and burlesque girls sashaying in fringe on the hour.

when i was a child i once had a nightmare of being in a haunted house where i opened the armoire and all the clothes came flying out at me.