#25: Lufthansa Diaries
Last night I found myself in Frankfurt, Germany with an unexpected evening to kill (not by choice) so I did the most appropriate thing and went looking for a bar. Coming off a series of stops in Yelpless cities, I was happy to see a long list of recommendations pop up when I opened the Yelp app here. The winner ended up being a cocktail bar called Die Rote that the reviews described as a speakeasy, a term that of course refers to a bar displaying no external sign of its presence and requiring some additional ritual, like ringing a buzzer, to enter. I rang the buzzer and spent a pleasant hour at Die Rote.
As with so many apps, I have an uneasy relationship with Yelp for how it's transformed the experience of exploring an unfamiliar place (my first ever Kneeling Bus post was about this, in fact), creating gains and losses by flattening the information landscape. My night in Frankfurt illustrates the harsh irony that such apps introduce: An hour off the plane, knowing no one in the city and having no prior plan to visit, I immediately found a bar that should be difficult to find, at least by walking around and hunting for one. As my rapid selection of a "hidden" establishment demonstrates, the popular speakeasy style of bar merely simulates the pre-internet era's version of secrecy. What would have made a place obscure in 1990 makes it a popular draw in 2017.
Being physically hidden formerly reflected a place's relationship to the rest of the world, but now, in a time when we use the internet to find out what's happening fifty feet away from us, a signless buzzer entrance becomes just another aesthetic flourish, like lighting a restaurant with candles or wearing a watch. Secrecy is achieved today via anonymity in the roaring river of data that constantly flows past us—being the dime-a-dozen Irish pub that doesn't try to set itself apart. When we arrive in an unfamiliar place armed with our iPhone, plenty is still concealed from us, but not because we can't see it.
Reads:
A fascinating story (from 2005) about the Garden State Plaza, a New Jersey mall that Wall Street analysts frequently visit to do research: "Mr. Morris notices only one employee in the store and a pile of baseball caps on the ground. 'That,' he said, "is not a competitive advantage." (thanks to Dan for sending me this)
Cyberpunk as a technique for thriving in the hyper-consumerist present
Until next time,
Drew