When you're out trolling for a retro-'60s superspy, preferably one with a Carnaby Street accent and a taste for Day-Glo paisley, Dot has all the atmo you could possibly require. The place looks like a cross between a swingin' bachelor pad of the Matt Helm variety and the futuristic lair of a fanatical supervillain. Dots are the dominant motif. Descend around the undulant entranceway past the Orwellian virtual hostess into a bar rife with pastel banquettes, cobalt-colored cocktails, white-lipsticked Bond girls, and globes, balls, and spheres of every size and hue. For those of us without a secret agent's über-cool, pickup lines are helpfully provided via an electronic stock ticker set into the bar. A curved staircase leads up to the Lord of Balls Lounge, a kitschy retreat with an aesthetic all its own. The dining room, meanwhile, serves up food occasionally worthy of a 007. But beware: Outbreaks of frugging and karate-chopping are constantly imminent.