The Bootleg Theatre—a self-described “speakeasy”—reeks of inauthenticity. Actually it doesn’t reek, it breathes: artificially cold air exhales out of beautiful state-of-the-art vent systems while life-punishing CFCs pour into our poor planet’s atmosphere. Which makes refreshing the $6 Stella you just bought and makes bearable the awkward, jittery house music we could have all lived without. Not that authenticity was to be expected—this is a Fold show after all—no matter how much you want to stick to principles, Bootleg’s creature comforts prove to you we’re just animals: give us cold beer and a cool room and we’ll happily oblige.
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