When it comes to deciding where you spend your time and money, labels are important. A fine dining establishment offers a different experience than you get at a food truck. Similarly, one would expect different things from a visit to a cocktail bar as opposed to a speakeasy, as opposed to a tiki bar. Labels, names, and categories are important. And yet, there are those places that defy categorization. They won’t be pigeonholed into just one.

The first time I visited Small Victory, I was under the impression this was a tiki bar that also called itself a speakeasy. When I had trouble finding the entrance, it made sense: speakeasies are hidden. By the time I made it to the bar and found a menu full of tiki drinks, I was sure: this was a tiki bar. As has been my experience on this speakeasy tour, however, not everything is as it seems.

Throughout the course of my Speakeasy Secrets series, I’ve been reminded over and over that the term “speakeasy” can be earned in a number of ways. Some speakeasies get the distinction because of their devotion to craft cocktails. Others offer Prohibition-era decor and an early 1900s vibe. Then there are the speakeasies that pride themselves on secrecy. Maybe they require a code or a password. Maybe they’re hidden, perhaps even behind a storefront that could only be described as outdated. Like a floppy disk repair shop.

The first time I noticed Floppy Disk Repair Co. on East Fifth and Brazos, I did a double take. New to Austin, I wondered what most people who aren’t in the know must wonder: how does a floppy disk repair shop survive in 2019? Only later did I hear rumors of a speakeasy behind the confusing storefront.

Next stop on Jonas’ quest to shed light on the underworld that is Austin’s speakeasy scene: Firehouse Lounge. As my Austin’s Speakeasy Secrets series continues, I’m noticing some similarities among my subjects.