In a clear break with tradition, Rvan and I ate lunch at the Money Laundering Cafe today.
Okay, sure, it has a real name, something like "Pizzazz!" or "How can we still be in business?!", but really, in the first year it was open, we never once saw anyone buy anything there, and in its second year (the year they added tables and chairs), I think we've only seen two people eat there. And this is while the pseudo-Japanese place fifteen feet away is packed.
When we arrived at noon, we were the only people there. The two people behind the counter looked a little shocked to see customers. (I ordered the half portobello mushroom & roasted red pepper panini and half baked potato. Rvan ordered both halves of the panini.) Then we sat down and waited. I think they might have gone over to Safeway to buy the ingredients.
The food was actually pretty good, and I haven't dropped dead from food poisoning yet, so that's a plus. My only real complaint is that eating there was about like eating in a jet. Not the cabin, but actually inside the jet engine. They have at least four refrigeration cases and the noise was unbelievable for a restaurant. Granted, my hearing is messed up from the cold I'm getting over, but Rvan kept telling me to repeat things, and I was reading his lips to figure out what he was saying.
Is this the low-tech way to make sure conversations can't be recorded?