Sassafras

My cousin Ryan is an incredible jazz guitarist who performs weekly at a small bar in Philly called Sassafras. Last summer his sister and I went to see him, but his performance was overshadowed by the ladies' room located at the top of the stairs. It is an enormous room and garishly painted in the brightest of colours. Across from the pedestal sink is a very 1950s pale mauve sofa with an odd mural of a sunbather in a red thong just above it. Behind the door is a painting of a cowboy with a svelte female that you see above. Oh, and the there is only one toilet in the entire room. Not one stall, one toilet. So as I'm doing my business, Marina was seated directly across from me on the sofa - no door between us. What is the point of having a bathroom the size of the White House dining room when clearly it is meant for one person's use? Unless you intend on using the sofa for more intimate encounters. When we asked Ryan about the men's room downstairs, he replied,"It's a broom closet."
I feel it should be mentioned that the bartender is ridiculously handsome. His name is Fergus and he is a cross between Ray Liotta and Martin Sheen in Badlands only with a charming brogue. Seriously though, the music was sensational, the food was delicious and the atmosphere charming. Can't wait to go back.