Well, yes and no. There's this neat little wine-bar cum cafe in my neck of the woods on Hyde and Jackson. It's one of the prettiest and coolest neighborhood in the city, quiet and unassuming like the suburbs, close to urban area (two blocks from Polk Street, another block to rock-and-shock Van Ness), lots of very picturesque and pretty restaurants and other commercial enterprises nestled among residential homes whose outside looks sixty years older than the superbly modernized interior. The cafe is Nook.
How can I explain Nook? I've walked by it more than a few dozen times as the route that passes by Nook is my common walk after a night of fencing (and I don't detour for grocery shopping). Even though I walk by this cafe numerous times and have stopped by to check on the menu posted at the front door, I've not been inside until tonight.
It's a quiet, unpretentious little euro-style cafe. It is, however, populated by the most amazing beautiful and gorgeous group of people known to man. Holy shiat! It's like entering a modeling convention's cafeteria, except such a cafeteria would be devoid of people because they're too thin to eat at such a place. No, Nook has these amazingly photogenic people sitting around chatting a la "Friends" while slowly noshing on their classic caesar salad or slowly sipping their double latte.
But, because the beauty factor is so high, your typical guy will be an AFC for sure. Yeah, you can walk in looking like Pierce Brosnan (or is it Ryan Gosling, who is now the "it" guy?) and you'll never so much as catch the eyes of the cool cats there. Yeah, you can be Mr. PUA and wind up LJBF in twenty minutes.
I sat down by two women having salads and wine and chatting about nothing special. The blonde(r) one was doing most of the talking, as well as downing the pinot, while the less blonde was quietly listening and barely sipping her wine. I had a classic caesar, which can't be classic because it's missing real anchovies (the server didn't understand) and a sandwich with a glass of my own pinot. The conversation I was overhearing was dreadfully dull and mundane, as I can also surmise from the less blonde's indifference. The food, eh. The wine selection, meh. I probably won't come back again, except to take full advantage of ogling the tens populating the place.
In an area where one wants to belong to a neighborhood spot, the Nook is a worthy competitor for that affection. Maybe for the supermodel wannabees, the Nook is the place to rest their behinds while pushing forward their laurels. For me, I still ache for comfy location that is not too loud, above average in the eats and drinks selections, and above average populace. No need for a group of tens for me.
How can I explain Nook? I've walked by it more than a few dozen times as the route that passes by Nook is my common walk after a night of fencing (and I don't detour for grocery shopping). Even though I walk by this cafe numerous times and have stopped by to check on the menu posted at the front door, I've not been inside until tonight.
It's a quiet, unpretentious little euro-style cafe. It is, however, populated by the most amazing beautiful and gorgeous group of people known to man. Holy shiat! It's like entering a modeling convention's cafeteria, except such a cafeteria would be devoid of people because they're too thin to eat at such a place. No, Nook has these amazingly photogenic people sitting around chatting a la "Friends" while slowly noshing on their classic caesar salad or slowly sipping their double latte.
But, because the beauty factor is so high, your typical guy will be an AFC for sure. Yeah, you can walk in looking like Pierce Brosnan (or is it Ryan Gosling, who is now the "it" guy?) and you'll never so much as catch the eyes of the cool cats there. Yeah, you can be Mr. PUA and wind up LJBF in twenty minutes.
I sat down by two women having salads and wine and chatting about nothing special. The blonde(r) one was doing most of the talking, as well as downing the pinot, while the less blonde was quietly listening and barely sipping her wine. I had a classic caesar, which can't be classic because it's missing real anchovies (the server didn't understand) and a sandwich with a glass of my own pinot. The conversation I was overhearing was dreadfully dull and mundane, as I can also surmise from the less blonde's indifference. The food, eh. The wine selection, meh. I probably won't come back again, except to take full advantage of ogling the tens populating the place.
In an area where one wants to belong to a neighborhood spot, the Nook is a worthy competitor for that affection. Maybe for the supermodel wannabees, the Nook is the place to rest their behinds while pushing forward their laurels. For me, I still ache for comfy location that is not too loud, above average in the eats and drinks selections, and above average populace. No need for a group of tens for me.
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