Christian let me know that he was running late and suggested that I go ahead and grab something to eat -- so I did; I was staying in Rosenthaler Platz and there were tons of food options in the area.
After eating, I met him at a train station located in the middle of a bustling square, Hackescher Market. Things were just as cool as with us as they were in Sydney -- it was like we had known each other for years. I was hoping to meet his girlfriend that night (they'd been dating for 10 years & lived together), but she was out with the girls. No biggie -- he mentioned that one of his friends was having a birthday party and he'd like to meet up with his friend for at least a little bit.
We walked a few blocks and caught a tram to another part of the city. Christian felt the need to get his friend a last-minute gift, so (in typical guy fashion), we stopped at a convenience store located a few yards from the destination bar. His "gift" turned out to be some random, off-brand bottle of vodka. He shook his head as he bought it, and described how embarrassing this was for him.
We made our way to the bar, which was a very relaxed, and smallish place that felt more like a coffee shop / wine bar than anything else, and I met the gang. There were 12 people including the birthday boy -- an interesting guy named Chris, a furniture designer. Quick aside -- far and away, the Germans speak the best English of anyone that I've encountered in Europe (that includes the Brits) -- so hanging with a group of Germans was no problem.
Much to Christian's dismay, Chris's other friends brought "real" gifts, so Christian's vodka bottle looked a little sad. Most of the people were from East Berlin (including Christian -- which I didn't know until that point), but one of the West Berliners, after seeing Christian's sad bottle, made a joke about East Berliners, which had everyone laughing. Ha!
Similar to what I've experienced in other places, the group instantly embraced me, and wanted to learn as much about me and the States as possible. In some respects, I felt sort of like an animal from a zoo -- they were initially very curious about me as they verbally poked and prodded me. Eventually, we were all joking and having a good time. Shots appeared and instantly disappeared; more drinks were downed; and then, sometime around 3am-ish, most of the people decide to leave. Christian and I agreed to meet around noon the next day to do a tour of Berlin.
In the States, that would be the end of the story...
Not here ;)
While everyone was preparing to leave, this guy (I can't remember his name, it started with a "W" and was something similar to "Woden" but that wasn't quite it) and I talked about going out. "Woden" mentioned that one of his friends was to play a DJ set at a club at 4am, and I decided to join. Prior to hitting the club, Woden wanted to make a pit stop at Alexanderplatz in order to grab a couple of party favors. Oddly enough, we stood out in the open in the middle of a giant square, while Woden and his contact conducted their business. The square was brightly lit -- in stark contrast to the pitch black sky.
We grabbed another cab and arrived at the area with the club. The scene was surreal -- we were in the midst of several old factories. The area looked somewhat like the broken down warehouse area in the final scenes of Robocop. The club was hidden behind several factories and a barbed-wire fence, and had a really non-descript entrance. To me, this seemed like the prototypical German experience -- everything had a very "industrial" feel to it. We paid a nomial entrance fee and entered a crazy underground techno club.
For some reason, the vast majority of bars in Berlin don't allow pictures (even the fairly small ones), so you'll just have to imagine the scene. The club was completely dark with the exception of throbbing red lights. Exposed brick and pipes lined the two story building. The music exploded throughout the entire place. There was one dance floor that looked to be cut into the side of stone wall. This room was dramatically darker; illuminated by the DJ table that was tucked away in a corner, and a few random colored lights sprinkled additional light into the room. Around 100 people were on the dance floor, but I'd guess that another 200 could've fit on the floor (and did a few hours later).
Upstairs, the second floor used exclusively see-through steel walkways, which added to the industrial feel. In one area, several old steel mechanical generators lined the middle of the room. The generators had been modified to allow for cubbie holes where a couple could chill.
As Woden was showing me around (there were about 200 people in the place initially), I felt a hand grab my left cheek (butt; not face). After the grab, a guy and a girl passed by me. I yelled out to them and the girl turned, shook her head and pointed to the guy standing next to her. I approached the girl, a 5'2" blonde haired Italian wearing a short skirt, tights, and black rimmed glasses nearly the size of her entire head. She immediately started laughing and said that she didn't do it -- it was her boyfriend. I turned to the guy, a crazy skinny 6'1" blonde haired Brit with half his head shaved and the other half almost in a pompadour poof, and he smiled and introduced himself to me.
Woden joined the conversation, and strangely enough we were all friends within a few minutes. As a group, we took turns hitting the dance floor and then hanging out and talking. When we talked as a group, it was essentially Woden talking to the Brit guy and the girl and I talking -- it was comical; she basically blew off her guy to hang with me. She was fairly interesting, and the topics ran the gamut of politics to music. On the other hand, her guy was a total English douchebag. Luckily, he seemed to get along really well with Woden, so I didn't have to deal with him much.
Woden's friends played their set (honestly, it wasn't that good, and thankfully they only played about 30 minutes, thereby making room for a much better DJ), we danced, and enjoyed the night. This turned out to be an amazingly fun club. As time passed, more and more people showed up.
After several hours, the couple talked about leaving. While they were getting their jackets, Woden had momentarily disappeared and the Brit, I guess in some sort of misplaced anger, started really ragging on me. He said he didn't particularly like Americans, and, with my hair style, I was obviously trying to look like Nick Cave. I told him I had no idea who that was (and still didn't until days later when I finally did an Internet search), and he refused to believe me. He was getting more and more belligerent, and his girl repeatedly apologized for him and kept telling him to shut-up.
Finally, he relented and the girl invited me to come back to their place. She told me that her guy wouldn't give me any more crap and then she mentioned something about sex. The whole thing was getting too strange, even for my standards, so I bid them farewell, hunted down Woden and told him that I was leaving.
I exited the club, having no idea where I was, and was instantly slapped by bright, glowing sunlight. I checked my watch -- 8:32am. Luckily, I found an area with a cab, and was back in bed sometime around 9:30am.
Nothing like waking up an hour and a half later to get ready to meet Christian...hehe.
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