The Rusty Razor
16 Corrs Lane
Melbourne Metroplex, Australia
The Rusty Razor is a runner bar. Hidden down one of the many narrow pedestrian-only alleyways dotted with hole-in-the-wall shops that Melbourne calls “laneways”, the place is smack in the middle of the sprawl, almost adjacent to Chinatown, and squeezed between a noodle counter and a pawn shop run by a surly Vietnamese dwarf. Down a set of metal stairs, a slightly recessed black door painted with the letters “RR” in yellow leads into the windowless basement of a 5-story grey concrete building. The Razor is nondescript to the point of being almost invisible, which has made it a popular place to conduct business. That, and the fact they have cute waitresses, and an excellent selection of whiskey.
Inside, the place is dimly lit, and the music is just loud enough to cover up most conversations. There are several wood tables, a number of shadowy booths in the corners that seem designed to be ignored, and a couple well-used pool tables. You notice that there is a conspicuous lack of AR objects in the area, and that Matrix reception is terrible- perhaps by design. Trideo sets are mounted near the ceiling, half of them tuned to an Urban Brawl match broadcasting live from Berlin, the other half showing highlights from this week’s episode of the Australian Desert Wars franchise. And, in the corner, an old tube jukebox with a feeder for Aussie paper dollars, a real relic, and filled with old hits from the 50s and 60s.
Behind a dark mahogany and black granite countertop, a tan and tough-looking but greying old human in a muscle shirt, with mirrored chrome cybereyes and a scar across his cheek, tends bar, the myomer cables from his old-school muscle replacements moving grotesquely under his skin like coiling snakes as he mixes drinks. Just above the bar, two extremely sharp-looking chrome cyberspurs are mounted on a plaque, crossed over each other, like a trophy. You notice that there isn’t a speck of tarnish on either one.
Frequent Visitors and Employees
In 2011, this address is actually occupied by the Berlin Bar , an establishment that attempts to reenact the Cold War division of Berlin. While their take on the subject is somewhat dramatized, the unique atmosphere this must lend to the bar probably accounts for its subsequent destruction and revival as a simple Runner’s Bar.