Wayward Cafe

Back to Seattle for a moment here. A few years ago, Mr and Mrs Seattlefriend took us to the vegan titty-loaf restaurant, so called because they served their "neat loaf" in a room decorated with sophomoric murals of bare breasted mermaids.

Man that place was good, and on the day we were there it was in particularly fine form. The owner was wearing some sort of hippie pull-on pants and the requisite rainbow beanie, and had sculpted his white beard into a single row of perfect little curls, all curling in one direction, like the ocean as represented in a Medieval manuscript. So he brings us our order, which I believe was two titty loaf and two sloppy glutens, and then asks us if we mind if he vacuums. And with his giant industrial vacuum, he vacuums around us while we eat. The dishwasher wasn't closed properly, and was only partially hidden behind a makeshift modesty curtain, so it was squirting periodically through the curtain and onto the floor. Happy vacuuming hippies in beanies, merpersons smiling down upon us, dishwashers spurting, gluten Joe, all led to the kind of experience I was dying to have again.

So we'd heard that the restaurant had changed hands, but we went last week to check it out anyway. Alas, as we drove up we saw the gnarly-tatted people of the cafe. As non-inked persons of a certain age, we weren't sure how welcome we were going to feel. But we went in, ate their seitan (pronounced Satan) and read literature about cruelty to animals. "What do vegans believe about abortion?" asked one informational flyer. The music was really loud, and the horrible murals have been replaced by even more horrible paintings with skulls. Mr Guy found a pig rescue flyer, which made him very happy.

Next time I'm looking for fake meat, I'll pass on the nihilist loaf and keep looking for rainbows.