Stale Cigarettes fill the Room
So I went out with this girl from France and her boss at the bar that she works. I had met them when I played at one of my shows. She invited me to a show. A rock show smelling of stale cigarettes. As she put it, “theatrical rock”.
I was running late, to be honest after I heard her boss was coming along I was thrown off a bit…however my roommates would say more than a bit. Whatever I figure this girl and I were going out together then with one text you become third wheel. And listen her boss is great, nice guy, and I think he’s a cool person, but I don’t know if they are just friends or if they are together or if this is just some European cultural thing…so all night I decided it would be best if I just keep it casual. You’re in Berlin, you don’t know anyone, these nice people were polite enough to show you a piece of Berlin you might not know otherwise. So believe it or not I was mature and just took in the experience.
Shipping Container Rock
Now when I got there though I was already late and then I couldn’t find the place and I got no freaking wifi, so yeah I was late. When I walk in to the place the guy at the door looked at me like I was definitely not supposed to be there.
I told em I was there for the show and he kind of came back down to earth and shot me an Australian tinged, “great”.
So I opened the door to the bar and that’s when I realize I’m inside a shipping container, well two containers side by side. It was so small that when I looked around the room for the French girl I was able to lock eyes with each person in the room. They must’ve been thinking, “Oh my god a giant”.
And get this she wasn’t their. So now I’m in this place with what looks like a group of close friends hanging out in someone’s bedroom. There was actually a twin bed in the back where a couple of really attractive girls in Amish looking hate sat drinking shit red wine.
So I go out to get fresh air and to contemplate if I should awkwardly stay in the smallest room I’ve ever attempted to see a show at or take off and never speak of this stale night, and before I can decide she shows up.
Her boss showed up as the band was setting up.
So before the band begins to play we do a couple shots and loosen up. I still can’t figure out, and never did honestly, what last night was. Was it a date? A few friends just hanging? Some weird attempt for them to get me in to some strange threesome? This is what kindness and hospitality makes me think about evidently. I start to question motives.
So turns out that it isn’t a regular show it’s actually a live recorded event. The pic above was taken at the end. The bartender, who also was the sound guy, film crew, and owner of the shipping container bar called the Culture Container came up on stage and asked us to please turn off our phones and remove our butt plugs so that we can really cheer for the band between songs (it’s a live recording remember).
So this band Bar Sinister made up of a British singer in a blazer mop top and pointy shoes, a couple of Canadian guitarists, an Aussie bassist, German keyboardist, and I thiiiiiink an American drummer started playing and I got to admit I was digging it. They sounded sort of like Queen, very theatrical indeed. Lots of fun.
So yeah I stayed till like three am. And everyone was smoking in there and since shipping containers have no ventilation, I woke up with my beard smelling like stale cigarettes.