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Inauspiciously located between an all-you-can-eat buffet and a mausoleum shop, 718 Lounge feels like it was accidentally plopped down on this stretch of Tremont Ave. Inside, though, the space works hard to get your attention: Phallic lamps made of hand-painted glass hang over a marble bar spanning half the lounge; behind it, a sign shouts the lounge’s name and a flashing checkered backdrop triggers DDR flashbacks. The lack of stools makes it tricky to eat at the bar, but red-and-black leather couches are available to scarf down the variety of paninis on hand; the white, circular bed, hidden in the back corner behind sheer white curtains, is usually reserved for those popping Hypnotiq. D.J.'s, overlooking the crowd in a raised cherrywood booth, spin a lot of hip-hop and reggaeton, but it’s the Latin-infused house stuff that best coincides with the headache-inducing visuals playing on the four plasma screens framing the bar. — Courtney Willis