Café, 6:26 p.m. – I’m not inspired enough to write a clever title

Kim Carnes is pumping out over the hi-fi – singing about those “Bette Davis Eyes.”

I’m parked in one of those trendy new “bakery/café/coffee hut” type places that opened up at the mall here. The atmosphere is nice, but the promise of free WiFi is – for right now – a lie. I can see the network, but every time I connect, it disconnects. This WiFi is full of fail.

The noise level in the joint is also terrifically loud. Very open-plan seating, complete with open kitchen and tons of howler monkeys scampering around flinging poo. Not literally, just metaphorically. And every thirty seconds, there’s a name booming out over the loudspeaker announcing an order “JOYCE,” “CLYDE,” “CARLOS.”

I’m staring at a table of single mothers – or at least a table of pregnant women giving the appearance of unwed mothers. They looks like they’re on a day trip from the local “bad girls” home or something. Three of them are pregnant – and two of them already have howler monkeys in tow.

JULIE!

Across the room, there’s the most adorable little girl bouncing up and down in her high-chair. She’s got a huge Angela Davis afro the size of a bowling ball on her tiny head and she’s bobbing up and down to the Cars and “Drive.”

MIKE!

I love the décor in here. Dark wooden floors, dark wood tables and chairs – which have this neat nine-dot pierced patter in the back of them – and plush cushions.

There is a great curved swoosh of a dining booth – which would be GREAT for a big birthday party – it looks like it would hold 15-20 people. Each end is very nearly an enclosed circle – but it actually connects all the way from one end to the other. The ceiling is exposed ductwork, but there is so much drop-lighting you hardly notice.

Too bad the food is so mediocre.

DON!

Apparently, so is the music selection. Pre-breakup, pre-rehab Backstreet Boys in the house “I Want It That Way.” I never did. Really. Never. No. Really. Not even AJ. Well, maybe. We all know he’s probably a freak in bed!

VERONICA! Where are the rest of the Archies?

Cute boy alert. Although he’s wearing the ugliest white flip-flops ever. And he had to navigate to the the trash can for his stoner-looking dad. Here’s a fashion tip we can all use – ponytails belong on four-legged members of the equine family and sorority girls. No one else.

OMYGAWD YA’LL. I THOUGHT I JUST HEARD A SNIPPET OF SOME CHER!

Wait. It was just Madonna with “Like a Prayer.”

ANNA. Anna Banana. Order up.

There’s something on the menu called “Chocolate Euphoria.” I wonder what that’s about. Or if Taye Diggs is planning to sue for defamation of character.

WOACA alert. Or suicide watch. Whichever you prefer. Older single woman eating alone, reading Tom Clancy. Dunno. She looks like she’s enjoying life. You go girl. But get some new reading material.

This place is worse than Starbucks with the blenders. They have at least three going at once, plus kitchen noise and people and screaming kids. I have a headache.

OK. I’m out. I’m tired and kind of cranky and not really inspired tonight. Plus the food was crap and my muffin tasted like styrofoam.