Sure, with its crimson hue, neon “Cocktails” sign, and Lynchian aesthetic, you could call it hipster. But it also feels like an everyman bar. You wouldn’t be surprised to run into just about anyone—your buttoned-up coworker, your neighbor, or whatever musician is playing the Ottobar that night. That being said, its list of celebrity patrons does seem to have a through-line: Iggy Pop, Johnny Depp, and, in particular, John Waters, who would make a fitting poster child.

We’re relieved that it’s open again to be a beacon after a long night, a harbor from the humidity of Artscape, a go-to Halloween spot where the bartenders’ costumes are a little too scary, an excuse to wax rhapsodic in its circular booths and, of course, a place to curate our own soundtrack on its fabled jukebox.

When we are inside Club Charles, time operates on its own scale. We are never really sure how many minutes or hours we spend under those dim red lights. But we’re glad we get to spend a few more. For many years, a sign hung above the bar that proclaimed, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” We are just happy that this glorious ghost came back to life.

This story originally appeared in the October 2017 issue of Baltimore and has been updated since its print publication.