The Great War has been over some seven years, the drinking some used to pass time and others to forget has been outlawed for five wholesome years, and still, in backrooms and basements there exists a haze of murmured voices, a fog of tobacco smoke, and the sound of glasses clinking over swilled gin while "Don't Wake Me Up, Let me Dream," is crooned by lounge singers and girls dreaming of radio across the country. 

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In the same year that New York City takes the title for largest city in the world, Savannah holds its heritage as America's First Planned City and the South's most liberal city in most accounts. Sixty years ago, brother fought brother and now, in those dens of iniquity, they sit talking about life, about the town gossip, and make deals that may never see the daylight hours. 

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Among them are those of this world and not, who speak of spirits in the same breath that money exchanges hand for imports all will deny seeing when the cops break down the door and haul everyone in. 

 

So long as you know the password and know how to play dumb, you can be a part of the take, too. 

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