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That Guy · 05-31-2003, 03:02 PM

I was in Berlin about 2 years ago, staying in a hostel on the eastern side. Several people there recommended checking out a bar just up the block that occupied the first floor of a squatters' complex. They talked about all the art deco in the bar being crafted by the squatters, and that the place was actually run by them, paying to keep the building from being vacated/torn down/etc. The only thing they warned me about was, "Just watch out for the dragon."

So I'm in the bar one night, enjoying a frothy brew of some sort, listening to a DJ spin some records while a guy played a muffled trumpet in the backgroud (Herbie Jones meets Magic Mike), and chatting it up with some Canuks and an Aussie from Adelaide. I have my back to the bar, keeping an eye on the DJ, who happens to be doing some wicked shit, and watching the steady flow of people order drinks. One of my new Canadian friends is facing me when suddenly I feel this mass of hot air heat up the top of my head, and see his face light up in a wide-eyed orange glow. I look back over my shoulder and see the dragon, which happens to be a 15 foot- (or so) long welded steel sculpture hanging from the ceiling, whose body ran the length of the bar with the head just over me. The flame was about 10 feet long at full burst, and was initiated everytime someone tipped the bartenders. I later found out that all the chairs, tables and even the bar were made by the same welder, who supposedly lived in one of the upper floors of the building. Quite cool, nay very hot.

05-31-2003, 03:02 PM	#3
That Guy He who reads, sometimes writes. Join Date: Sep 2001 Location: at the keyboard Posts: 791	I was in Berlin about 2 years ago, staying in a hostel on the eastern side. Several people there recommended checking out a bar just up the block that occupied the first floor of a squatters' complex. They talked about all the art deco in the bar being crafted by the squatters, and that the place was actually run by them, paying to keep the building from being vacated/torn down/etc. The only thing they warned me about was, "Just watch out for the dragon." So I'm in the bar one night, enjoying a frothy brew of some sort, listening to a DJ spin some records while a guy played a muffled trumpet in the backgroud (Herbie Jones meets Magic Mike), and chatting it up with some Canuks and an Aussie from Adelaide. I have my back to the bar, keeping an eye on the DJ, who happens to be doing some wicked shit, and watching the steady flow of people order drinks. One of my new Canadian friends is facing me when suddenly I feel this mass of hot air heat up the top of my head, and see his face light up in a wide-eyed orange glow. I look back over my shoulder and see the dragon, which happens to be a 15 foot- (or so) long welded steel sculpture hanging from the ceiling, whose body ran the length of the bar with the head just over me. The flame was about 10 feet long at full burst, and was initiated everytime someone tipped the bartenders. I later found out that all the chairs, tables and even the bar were made by the same welder, who supposedly lived in one of the upper floors of the building. Quite cool, nay very hot.