Late Breakfast
I was more worn out than I realized I think. A frantic dream woke me up at 8:15 this morning, and I decided to go ahead and wake up, shower, and sort of get started on my long list of things I've wanted to get done.
After only a very short list of them (including bathing the cat, though, so that has to count for something) I was exhausted, and lay down on the couch to nap for an hour or two.
I woke up at 1:30pm.
Master Plan, down the tubes. Yeah.
Anyway, not to be delayed too much, I pulled myself together, ran by the grocery store for some chocolate (priorities), and went to the postal center to mail out some stuff that had been hanging over my head for a while. After that I realized I hadn't eaten since 6:30 last night, and that food might be a good idea (this was around 3pm).
I wandered around Yaletown for a bit, summarily shooting down most of the options either for being too uppity (various Italian bistros, etc) or just not the right thing for today (Subway, Steamrollers, various pizza places, and so on), so I began heading east down Davie St, where I knew I'd be bound to run into some cafes and diners, because a good omelette was starting to sound really good.
Arriving at Davie and Seymour, I stopped on the sidewalk to glance over at The Elbow Room, thinking, you know, I've always meant to try that place. A virtual wall of "Most Memorable Meal" awards upon entering made me feel like I'd made a good choice.
And wow, what a place this is.
Noticing my sleepy demeanor, and the fact that I was ordering coffee ("We'll bring you your first one, but if you want more, the pot's over there, got it?") and breakfast at 3pm, the owner trotted over, mentioned that I was looking a little rough around the edges, and asked if I'd had a naughty evening last night. The comment caught me off guard, so I laughed. "Heh, you little slut!" he answered with a giggle.
From that point on, the staff were joking around with me, especially regarding my relative spaciness, and gave me plenty of unsolicted advice including, "There's a wall there, you know," and "When you leave, that's a street out there. With cars on it. Don't wander into it."
The rules posted on the wall (and on their website) are not just for show, and they really do expect you to get your own coffee and water.
Interestingly, the effect is endearing, however. Unlike other establishments who harrass their customers for fun (cf. Dick's Last Resort), the mood here is less a formulaic kitschy stream of insults, and more like the kind of treatment you'd get eating breakfast with a sibling or a close friend. "What do you mean bring you some coffee? You can see I've got my hands full. You've got legs. . . ." Within minutes, strangers at tables next to each other were conversing, and having friendly honest discussions with the staff as well.
The entertainment didn't stop.
Owner: You say you just got married?
Girl: Yeah, want to congratulate us?
Owner: To him?
Girl: Yeah. Why?
Owner: I mean, he looks sort of nice an all, but honey. I understand. One time I woke up from a 6 month drinking binge, and there in the bed was a guy kind of like that next to me, and. . . . I mean, what do you do? There's no need to be nice about it. Just admit a mistake and get on with it.
Girl: Well, we did get married in Vegas. You think I was too hasty?
Owner: [Stares new husband in the eyes. Sighs. Walks away, waving hand. Turns around. Whispers.] If you change your mind, do I get him? [All laugh.]
This definitely goes onto the list of places to visit when friends are in town.
After only a very short list of them (including bathing the cat, though, so that has to count for something) I was exhausted, and lay down on the couch to nap for an hour or two.
I woke up at 1:30pm.
Master Plan, down the tubes. Yeah.
Anyway, not to be delayed too much, I pulled myself together, ran by the grocery store for some chocolate (priorities), and went to the postal center to mail out some stuff that had been hanging over my head for a while. After that I realized I hadn't eaten since 6:30 last night, and that food might be a good idea (this was around 3pm).
I wandered around Yaletown for a bit, summarily shooting down most of the options either for being too uppity (various Italian bistros, etc) or just not the right thing for today (Subway, Steamrollers, various pizza places, and so on), so I began heading east down Davie St, where I knew I'd be bound to run into some cafes and diners, because a good omelette was starting to sound really good.
Arriving at Davie and Seymour, I stopped on the sidewalk to glance over at The Elbow Room, thinking, you know, I've always meant to try that place. A virtual wall of "Most Memorable Meal" awards upon entering made me feel like I'd made a good choice.
And wow, what a place this is.
Noticing my sleepy demeanor, and the fact that I was ordering coffee ("We'll bring you your first one, but if you want more, the pot's over there, got it?") and breakfast at 3pm, the owner trotted over, mentioned that I was looking a little rough around the edges, and asked if I'd had a naughty evening last night. The comment caught me off guard, so I laughed. "Heh, you little slut!" he answered with a giggle.
From that point on, the staff were joking around with me, especially regarding my relative spaciness, and gave me plenty of unsolicted advice including, "There's a wall there, you know," and "When you leave, that's a street out there. With cars on it. Don't wander into it."
The rules posted on the wall (and on their website) are not just for show, and they really do expect you to get your own coffee and water.
Interestingly, the effect is endearing, however. Unlike other establishments who harrass their customers for fun (cf. Dick's Last Resort), the mood here is less a formulaic kitschy stream of insults, and more like the kind of treatment you'd get eating breakfast with a sibling or a close friend. "What do you mean bring you some coffee? You can see I've got my hands full. You've got legs. . . ." Within minutes, strangers at tables next to each other were conversing, and having friendly honest discussions with the staff as well.
The entertainment didn't stop.
Owner: You say you just got married?
Girl: Yeah, want to congratulate us?
Owner: To him?
Girl: Yeah. Why?
Owner: I mean, he looks sort of nice an all, but honey. I understand. One time I woke up from a 6 month drinking binge, and there in the bed was a guy kind of like that next to me, and. . . . I mean, what do you do? There's no need to be nice about it. Just admit a mistake and get on with it.
Girl: Well, we did get married in Vegas. You think I was too hasty?
Owner: [Stares new husband in the eyes. Sighs. Walks away, waving hand. Turns around. Whispers.] If you change your mind, do I get him? [All laugh.]
This definitely goes onto the list of places to visit when friends are in town.