During college, I sometimes hung out at a quirky little tucked-away coffeehouse in Seattle.
Years later, I looked for it on a visit and couldn't find it or remember its name. But a friend mentioned it last night, and I immediately looked it up!
It was The Last Exit, and I had no idea it had such an interesting history. I just knew it felt like stepping into a magical "other" place.
nostr:npub1hvzjvzfmclu5l5zk65fxye5cgt7e0qvs6rcn60z72v9hy79mmpzq4qmle9 And I was thinking Café Nervosa?
nostr:npub1hvzjvzfmclu5l5zk65fxye5cgt7e0qvs6rcn60z72v9hy79mmpzq4qmle9 Amazing. As I read the first sentence, visions of the Last Exit filled my head. I spent an inordinate amount of time in that place from the mid 80s to the early 90s (when I graduated from UW, I turned around and started working there, so, kept up my Last Exit habit.)
Rumor has it that the marble tables along the walls had a previous life as urinal dividers in a correctional facility.
nostr:npub1hvzjvzfmclu5l5zk65fxye5cgt7e0qvs6rcn60z72v9hy79mmpzq4qmle9
Reminds me of Clarke’s descriptions of The White Hart.
I lived in the Seattle burbs in the late 80s and early 90s. So I could have gone. But I’d never heard of it. Bummer.
If you haven’t read Arthur C. Clarke’s “Tales From the White Hart”, i think you’d really like it. It’s a collection of short stories the last of which is “The Defenstration of Ermintrude Inch”.
