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Cat Cafe
I have an hour before my dentist appointment, and I am across town from my apartment. The outside air quality is so bad that local schools have cancelled outdoor activities for the day. I just started my period and I have just-bad-enough cramps.
What am I going to do with myself? No way am I sitting in the dentist’s office for an hour, reading celebrity magazines and watching Hocus Pocus on the DVD player.
Fortunately for me, there is a cat cafe a few doors down from the dentist’s office. I park my car and walk there, intending to work between gazing at calming and adorable cats.
This cat cafe has a small seating area outside the cat play room. If you don’t want to pay $35 and make an appointment to go in the big room with the cats, you can sit here in front of a gigantic window, log on to the cafe’s wifi and pretend to work.
I love cats. I live with the Friendliest Calico on the Planet. I will go down a cat video rabbit hole with almost no prompting.
But this cat cafe — this is some weird and beautiful shit. Here’s a little glimpse at my hour:
A large, barrel-chested, older man sits in the windowsill. He has a kitten draped across one arm. He could fit the entire kitten in one of his meaty hands. He keeps his arm crooked at an awkward angle so the kitten has the best possible napping ledge. As the…