At the 318

My wife and I strolled into the 318 Cafe in Excelsior the other day to check it out. On the wall, and decorating the corners of the room, were acoustic guitars. One was decorated in mosiac-like purple and silver glass.
They have live music in the evenings -but it was afternoon. I looked around for a piano, but saw none.
The main room was filled with customers... perhaps 30 or 35. Waitresses waitressed. Pastry chefs pastried. I looked around the room and suddenly became aware that I was the only male in the room - and I was reading a 1942 Good Housekeeping Cook Book I had just bought at Leopold's down the street. We had been brousing antiques. I thought to myself “Is this what I have become?”
I ordered a salad.



Note: I actually ordered a very good stone baked pizza.