I begin to construct a preposterous plot to match this gilded interior: maybe much later, when the lights dim, the two of them will find themselves in a corner, under the chandelier, whispering about a still smouldering love affair, a half-buried memory. Did I only imagine a frisson between them, something unspoken? But then, at the last moment, a knowing glance is exchanged. They hardly look at each other. On the surface, it seems a moment of supreme Berliner Wurstigkeit, of ‘I could-give-a-damn’ attitude.
One of the burly painters in his splattered overalls passes her at this very moment in the other direction. I sit in my corner a little longer and something catches my attention: I observe a drag queen, her sequinned tope blouse reflected in the mirrors. Here, you feel like the Old Berlin is hanging on against gentrification. The plastic chairs and menus help. But Café Rix wouldn’t be Café Rix if it were trying that hard. Even the pavillion exterior with its classical window casements looks similar to that swish establishment. It could be converted easily (maybe in another decade once Neukölln outprices everyone) into something more like the Literaturhaus on Kürfurstendamm. The interior is from the 1890s, a mix of Baroque and Art Nouveau. I turn over my book and think about how Rix is democratic, how it’s the kind of place––with its vaulted ceilings, stück, and gilt––that could be fancy. These days, however, Café Rix, in the reconstructed German capital, has peacetime written all over it. A cultural meeting point for the folk of Rixdorf for most of its history, Café Rix in 1942 did briefly have the ignoble purpose of being the storeroom for the expropriated goods of expelled Jews. There is no sense of urgency here, no spies scoping you out from a neighbouring table, no messages being passed to the enemy. A young couple play hide and seek with their two-year old behind the bar. It’s Mahlzeit––time for a working man’s lunch––and four lads in overalls have piled their heavy winter coats onto a chair, to sit in the corner, drink Hefeweizen, and eat Gänsekeule, or roast duck. In Rix Café in Neukölln, Berlin, they are playing Spandau Ballet. In Rick’s Café, in the film Casablanca, they sing La Marseillaise around a piano. What secret plan is being hatched in Rix Café? Café Rix, Berlin
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