Gencon’s Past: The Milwaukee Years Part 2: The Safehouse

As stated in earlier posts, the thing I most miss about GenCon in Milwaukee was Mecca Arena, but a close 2nd is the Safehouse. Odd thing was, we didn’t discover the safe house until about years 4 or 5 of attending GenCon, which I suppose makes sense. It is a secret spy bar after all.

Ethan, another of my best friends, started going to GenCon year 3 and hasn’t missed it since. Since Jay missed last year, that makes him second behind me in continuous GenCons. He discovered the Safehouse by chance during an unrelated trip to Milwaukee, which was fortunate, since it setup the ideal way to experience the Safehouse.

He told us we had to go to this bar, but didn’t give us a lot of info. We followed him into an alley on the riverfront, which aroused our suspicious, and then entered an nondescript door that only said “International Exports Ltd.” Where the fuck was he taking us!

Inside was one person, she called herself “Control.” She asked for the Password. Huh? We need a fucking password? Ethan whispered something in her ear, flipped her a $20, and exited through a conceal door which promptly shut. Ok....

Spoilers Warning!!!!
If you intend to visit the Safehouse, don’t read anymore. Just go there.

Needles to say, the rest of didn’t know the password. Control said she would let us enter, only after we did some tasks for her. She lined us at the wall and proceeded to make us do stupid tasks. Sing, Dance, etc... Now I don’t know what quality I give off, but people tend to like to punish me for some reason. Maybe I’m just too much of a smart ass, I dunno, but after letting everyone else proceed, she made me put on a grass skirt and dance some more. Seriously... a grass skirt. Finally, I made Control happy and she let me exit via the concealed door. To my surprised, when I entered the bar, there were tv monitors everywhere, and the entire bar had watched me dance in a tutu. Patrons at the bar had score cards, and gave me their marks as I entered. Damn spies and their games!

Inside the bar was a host of gadgets, props, and memorabilia from spy movies. It was a impressive collection. The food was good on top of that and they sold special spy drinks in collectible glasses you got to keep. One drink I recall was called Mission Impossible. I didn’t try it, but a friend of mine did, and he found it impossible to do much else correctly the rest of the evening.

Just as we were ready to leave, Ethan showed us one more surprise. He brought us into a phone booth, closed the door, and revealed a secret exit that lead to a tunnel which emptied into another back alley.

Best bar ever. Nothing in Indy has even come close.