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This is a ‘gentleman’s club’, and three gents (or more), get a bottle of bubbly on the house.
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Here is a joint with hostesses and dancers, but they’ve drawn limits: “No private or lap dancing”. This is a step up from your basic Roppongi strip joint. Look for a map in Metropolis or call the place for one.
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The ‘Lex’ is the haunt of legendary Bill Hersey, the only social columnist in town and the guy who looks after whoever is visiting, be it Clint Eastwood or Eric Clapton. The scrubby, down-at-heel Lex is itself the stuff of legends.
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The design/ad agency/fashion publishing crowd gather here, all pretty much Japanese. To penetrate the side streets and get past those myriad neon signs, call for a map. You may still get lost on the way, but that’s part of the fun.
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Does everything revolve around Roppongi these days? If so, this is a prime suspect. This is a huge, booming, bustling barn of a place, with a massive dance floor and the noise level that’s required.
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