While driving down Moreland Avenue, suddenly the scenery begins to change from the typical Atlanta sprawl to a cluster of smoke shops, costume stores, and coffee houses. This is Little Five Points. The regular crowd seems just as colorful as the graffiti that covers every inch of exposed wall. Standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a chance to cross the street, a man is repeatedly heckled by a "vendor" selling roses.  A few men sit scattered in the main square, lounging on benches, apparently in no rush. They listen to a street performer play the guitar and sing. Huddled in a doorway is a couple sitting cross-legged. A fishing pole rests between them connected to a cup and a cardboard sign that reads, "Fishing for $$$". As I leave the square, a man calls out to me, "Baby, please, tell me how can we make this work?", but his question is soon drowned out by the sound of cars speeding by on the main road. I can smell fries as I approach the renowned Atlanta burger joint, The Vortex. The entrance to this burger paradise is marked by a huge skull-shaped entry way. It's dinner time so the restaurant is beginning to fill up. The decor is eccentric and appears to be made up of paraphernalia and miscellaneous thrift store finds. Music blasts from the jukebox causing people to talk a little more loudly. "Sit anywhere you want," a waiter says in a southern drawl. Just down the sidewalk from The Vortex is The Clothing Warehouse, an iconic vintage store. A store attendant, dressed in bright turquoise, adjusts a mannequin in the window. While perusing the racks of flannel shirts and leather jackets, I can see that nearly every piece is unique. At nightfall, the crowd around Little Five Points picks up. More people flock to the square for dinner or drinks. If there had been a show this night, the Variety Playhouse, a refurbished, yet old-fashioned theater would have been packed, but I watch as a man and his girlfriend purchase a ticket for an upcoming show. The whole scene is an abrupt change from the organized, clean-cut neighborhoods of Buckhead and Druid Hills. Though Little Five Points is not far from either, it holds on to its reputation as Atlanta's own little slice of Bohemia.