During the Get Stuffed moped rally, dozens of mopeders descended upon The Night Cap to get sloshed and sing karaōke. With a huge interior and smoking patio, the bar easily accommodated the lot of us, though I was left wondering how dead it would have been had we not showed up. The bar’s clientele skews older and is pretty evenly mixed between black and white lower– and middle-class people. I’ve heard the term«West Side trash» used to refer to The Night Cap’s patrons, but I don’t know if the label is entirely accurate. Everyone we encountered was polite and fun, with maybe a hint of scandal. Drinks were reasonably priced, although the only special was Jell-O shots. The bartenders gave me consistently heavy pours on gin and tonic. The bouncer was huge and super-cool. He arm-wrestled a mopeder, tolerated our pantless race down Fulton Street and even attended our warehouse party the next night.