One of Those Magic Places

Little Five Points is considered the alternative section of Atlanta. I know this because 90% of the people I saw there were tourists and teenagers gawking at the other 10% who were sporting piercings, tattoos and strange hair. It’s an intersection of streets where you can buy crystals, feminist books and clothes that say naughty things. It’s a pretty neat place although some elements of it look like an alternative gift shop where boring people buy something interesting to prove to their friends that they are not really boring after all. It becomes a weird mental paradox when a place that prides itself as being unique tries so damn hard to impersonate a Hot topic.

My favorite place by far was the coffee shop/theater that was at the end of the commercial area right before you get to people’s houses. The table I say down at had two books by Robert Anton Wilson and one book about the hollow earth and the freaking dero. The art decor focused on breasts and death, which considering my mood this past weekend, it was strangely appropriate. A banner proudly urged people to Fu*k Cancer and I whole heartedly agreed. All the service people inside wore glasses, which is really all I ask for when it comes to coffee shops.

As a porn writer, it sometimes disconnects me to walk into a place I could have very well wrote about. It makes me want to keep looking to see if I can find the Booty Lounge or maybe some sexy librarians. Little Five Points is filled with moments like those. You see a pale goth girl carrying handcuffs and you wonder if she has escaped or maybe she is hunting. You hear Bob Marley coming out of a shop where you can just imagine the revolution is being planned. There are still the large crowds of tourists but you can’t shake the feeling that you head into the right shop or duck down the wrong alley, you could sidestep into plot from a porn blogger’s story.