(no subject)
New York City, Soho
Saturday, October 14, 2006
8:15pm
The awning out front reads Redleaf in twining letters that might suggest flower petals, or flames. Inside there are two seating areas, both visible through the plate windows, symmetrically aligned on opposite sides of a central wall. A polite sign near the front door says PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED; not everyone's in the know, after all, and the greeter's job is to keep any uninformed humans from wandering into the second seating area by accident.
A quiet word to the greeter gets them through to the second room, where the windows that look out onto the street have a one-way you-don't-see-anything-weird-here glamour on them -- low-level stuff, but effective in a city where people tend to mind their own business anyway. Once inside, you definitely can see the weird, especially if you know what to look for: people of blatantly odd shapes and colors, yes, but also people who look thoroughly normal until you notice some tiny not-quite-right detail.
And also things like the drinks menu on the wall behind the juice-and-tea bar, with little red stars marking certain items such as the Bellissima (lemongrass, tomato juice, belladonna berries, mint leaves) or the Socrates (green tea, hemlock, absinthe) or the Serpent's Tooth (rice milk, synthetic rattlesnake venom, agave nectar, cayenne pepper). A footnote explains that humans should avoid these selections. If there's a similar notation on the at-table menu, it probably applies to the crudite platter being carried past by a waiter; the vegetable sticks look perfectly harmless, but the dip in the center appears to be made of molten lead.
At one end the bar sits a trio of people with vivid feathers in place of hair, one man and two women, talking animatedly; at the other end is a tired-looking (and human-looking) man hunched over a steaming mug of something that isn't coffee.
The two (apparently) humans belly up to the bar between them. Andrew peruses the drinks menu overhead; Spike studies the crowd.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
8:15pm
The awning out front reads Redleaf in twining letters that might suggest flower petals, or flames. Inside there are two seating areas, both visible through the plate windows, symmetrically aligned on opposite sides of a central wall. A polite sign near the front door says PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED; not everyone's in the know, after all, and the greeter's job is to keep any uninformed humans from wandering into the second seating area by accident.
A quiet word to the greeter gets them through to the second room, where the windows that look out onto the street have a one-way you-don't-see-anything-weird-here glamour on them -- low-level stuff, but effective in a city where people tend to mind their own business anyway. Once inside, you definitely can see the weird, especially if you know what to look for: people of blatantly odd shapes and colors, yes, but also people who look thoroughly normal until you notice some tiny not-quite-right detail.
And also things like the drinks menu on the wall behind the juice-and-tea bar, with little red stars marking certain items such as the Bellissima (lemongrass, tomato juice, belladonna berries, mint leaves) or the Socrates (green tea, hemlock, absinthe) or the Serpent's Tooth (rice milk, synthetic rattlesnake venom, agave nectar, cayenne pepper). A footnote explains that humans should avoid these selections. If there's a similar notation on the at-table menu, it probably applies to the crudite platter being carried past by a waiter; the vegetable sticks look perfectly harmless, but the dip in the center appears to be made of molten lead.
At one end the bar sits a trio of people with vivid feathers in place of hair, one man and two women, talking animatedly; at the other end is a tired-looking (and human-looking) man hunched over a steaming mug of something that isn't coffee.
The two (apparently) humans belly up to the bar between them. Andrew peruses the drinks menu overhead; Spike studies the crowd.