text: I first heard of *The Deep* when I was eavesdropping on a hipster couple at a pub near uni. I was having a low-carb pint, alone, as always, when they began to chatter. “So there’s this place” said the man in a hushed voice. “apparently it’s, like, some sort of bar, not like any of the others around here, some secret handshake shit.” “Sounds cool.” said the woman, looking down, picking at her fingernails. “It’s got a hidden entrance and all that jazz.” “Sounds fun.” she responded, still picking at her fingernails, not reciprocating the man’s hushed tone. I’d ordered an Uber from uni, and by the time i’d been dropped off it was dark. Street poles lit the ground with a urine yellow. I realised that the Uber was the only car in sight, and it was quickly disappearing up the cobblestone road. There was a Telstra payphone nearby, the receiver was dangling awkwardly. I could smell weed and hear faint chatter. I had a feeling this was the right place. I knocked on a metal door three times, and was about to knock again before it swung backwards and a girl with a septum piercing appeared. “Have you tried the schnitty at The Royal?” snarled the punky woman in front of me. “I - uh.” She slammed the door and I heard a deadbolt lock. She was, I guessed, one of the staff at *The Deep*, and I had failed some sort of test. Defeated and a bit pissed off I took another look around the street I had found myself in. The lonely cobblestone roads and sandstone buildings of covid-era Sydney had long lost their charm on me. I brought up Google Maps on my phone and reluctantly searched for a nearby pub. I figured i’d remedy my disappointment with a low-carb pint, alone, as always, again. But Then I spotted a tall and admittedly suave-looking guy. He was sauntering down the street, toward me, or toward the door. And I was convinced that my luck had turned. His name was Alex, and he was a Juris Doctorate student at Sydney University. He smoked JPS Blues, like me. I took a drag of his cigarette and passed it back to him. “You know the password?” I asked. He looked at me, cocking his head, his waves of brown hair flopped to one side. “You need to say the steak is better at The Royal.” “Ah” I said “Yes, better than the schnitzel...” “I’ve tried them both and the schnitty is definitely better.” I said. He laughed, and I started to feel like I was winning him over. “I’ll see you inside, brother” said Alex abruptly, tossing his cigarette aside. He was one of those *brother* people, who say it to everyone they meet. I knew the trick, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disarmed. “Don’t tell Cassidy I told you the password.” shouted Alex with a smile as he walked towards the metal door, where the faint music was coming from. I assumed that Cassidy was the punky girl with the septum piercing. “It’s going to be a good night!” Alex shouted, this time fainter. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was right, it was going to be a good night - a night he would remember for the rest of his life. I waited a few minutes to avoid suspicion, then walked up to the metal door once again.