I didn't report on going back to my favorite (now) Groundworks, and being very productive. Now I've launched myself out again, this time to a place called "Psychobabble". It's in Los Feliz, which has never really spoken to me as a neighborhood. It's a mix of old Hollywood houses and young hipsters.
But back to Psychobabble.
This place is like a Kafkaesque prison.
The wonder is that people actually pay to eat and drink here. I'd understand it better if they were paid. Very intense, classical music on the loudspeaker. Walls are painted a beigy faux something or other -- they're kind of stippled or sponged. Ivy is painted along the top of the windows. I suppose that we're invited to imagine we're in a sun-drenched villa in Italy. There's both a bronze chandelier and very modern lights dropped from the ceiling. Everywhere you look, there are signs: that seating areas are only for customers, that restrooms are only for customers, etc. Paintings depict 19th century scenes, some in a vaguely Impressionist style. There's a total personality conflict -- and I feel myself becoming a little crazy just taking it all in.
The panini that I ordered (ham and cheese) is quite mediocre. I just now bit into the center -- there's pesto on one side, and a thick layer of grainy mustard on the other side! More personality conflict stuff. The mixed salad seems to have balsamic vinegar and walnuts sprinkled over it.
I'm dying to go to the bathroom. Who knew that it would be such an adventure? In following all the signs to direct me to the key, I begin to feel more and more like Alice in Wonderland with each step. You can't imagine how many signs there were. I then saw additional signs explaining why and how the key was missing.
My brain decided that this was all too much. I'm going to finish lunch, cut my losses, and head downtown to another place.
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