Welcome to where the seeds of dreams are planted--where one can sip from the charmed chalice of life & meet interesting folk through (hopefully) intelligent conversation.
One never knows nor can expect who will sail into the fray--what we do know is that no soul here is perfect no matter how we try. So let us celebrate & raise our mugs to the idiosyncratic nature of life--to the Kramer's & Norm's of the world, the Roseanne's & Allan Poe's. Some old, some lost, some tortured, some blessed, all souls sharing a drink at the same time in the same place. The ensuing tales are authentic with names trending towards monikers. The flag waving on our doorstep means we're open, so come perk your curiosity in Le Harbor Bungalow Cafe.
Bonjour! Mesherfin! Hasta la vista! Your barista.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Speculation spread amongst patrons that Fister Mishy was attempting suicide, pushing his nose out of the water and knocking the plastic door open, which is how the wound formed. If the feeding door was not there, Fister Mishy may have got his wish—unless his wish was something else, like sneaking a taste of Jennifer’s spicy chicken soup. If that were the case—and if he could jump that far—the barista wouldn’t blame him. But as the comments regarding Fister Mishy’s living conditions multiplied, (I feel so bad for him... The tank's so small... The way he bangs his head on the top of the tank it's a miracle he can still see straight.) the barista did not want to bear the blame for the cichlid's physical and mental health, nor did his boss, Jennifer. Leon—the Santa Claus-looking patron who generously gifted the creature in the first place--wanted to care for his spiny-rayed buddy himself. Leon is the one who changes out Fister Mishy’s water along with the required aquarium maintenance. His heart is bigger than his wallet. When the small table under the aquarium was buckling earlier this year, Leon helped to build a fifth, brick leg to keep Fister Mishy's habitat from violently shattering on the floor, flooding the back room. He strategically placed coffee cup sleeves between the table and the bricks to more evenly distribute the heavy weight. Leon provides the food, but it is mainly Jennifer and her baristas who feed the monster. Our barista is amused when he gives the eetsy beetsy pieces of TetraCichlid Cichlid Sticks to children of patrons to drop into Fister Mishy's tank. Why? Because the kids jump in shock as Fister chomps violently enough to splash water out of the tank when he’s hungry. The kids generally jump in delight after the fact, knowing they are safe. (To date, no child has cried from the experience, let alone been injured on our barista’s watch at le Harbor Bungalow Café. Though Squeaky did get his finger bit once--but he is a 70-year old man who should know better.)