Decked out like an opium den, this Little Temple has dark and cushy crannies for lounging and dim, red-lit corners to elicit the possibility of unmentionable acts.

Within the bi-roomed, and thus bi-dance-floored temple, an underground music crowd of Rastafarians, industrial-music trend setters and urbanites gather. This is Downtown meets Hollywood meets the Eastside meets Shanghai. The laid-back scene includes people jonesing to hook up, those who just want to drink, and other curious types who can't believe the grungy Garage has been transformed into something somewhat classy—but classy in the same way your pot-smoking English professor's whiskey-tasting parties were classy. Don't come here to gossip over a martini.—Virginia Melin