Published, Thursday, June 1, 2000. We are to ship out the next day, going over there, so this is it, the last chance to say those things we might never have another chance to say. It sort of breaks the spell, which at Aces Supper Club runs to the catchy glitz, glamour and giddiness of a World War II lounge and dinner house where military personnel might gather for one last bash before tomorrow's uncertain fate.
Couples nuzzle on banquettes.
Spies camouflaged as business executives huddle conspiratorially over papers spread on small round tables. The band pauses between torchy ballads to salute Navy personnel, who jump from their barstools to acknowledge the appreciative cheers. But it sure can be dark in Aces, as if a blackout has been ordered. Just to be safe, bring your night goggles. We hadn't, which explains her retreat up a nearby ramp to a spot where the lighting was more accommodating for reading the menu, or finding Private Ryan.