The crux of my account of Mishka’s cafe relies on knowing that coffee is a diarrhetic, meaning that it makes you pee and poo. Because of this, having a workable, clean bathroom is crucial to a good cafe experience. All coffee drinkers can understand coffee-induced peristalsis.
So naturally, a good place to start my description of Mishka’s is the bathroom. The bathroom door is tucked away in the back by the employee parking lot. It’s painted purple, or mauve. I can’t remember. A laminated sign informs the patron that the door is locked, and then instructs him/her to hunt for the bathroom key, which is hidden by the front counter. And by the way, laminated instructions are ubiquitous throughout the cafe, so get excited for more of that in this account.
The key is attached to a giant plastic cup which becomes a great inconvenience if, for some reason, you wanted to steal Mishka’s bathroom key. Actually, I’m thinking more along the lines of high school hall passes here, where the teachers would attach spatulas, footballs, whatever it took to keep the hall pass conspicuous. But the giant plastic cup does serve its real purpose, which is to constantly remind you to put the key back. It also serves as an excuse to not wash your hands after you pee. Follow my logic: If my hands are going to touch that nasty cup anyway, what’s the point of getting my hands wet? (I did wash my hands, I’m speaking hypothetically)
So after a little trouble, I unlock the door, and to my surprise what I find is not a bathroom at all, but a dungeon. Lit with the equivalent of a single candle, the room is small and frightening. The walls are the same purple/mauve color as the door, but in the dark everything looks like blood. A viscous musk, reminiscent of feces and decay, wafts me in. I can barely make out a toilet with the dim light, which seems absorbed by the thick air. I take a breath and go in to do my business. I almost don’t make it out, since I’m determined not to breathe again till I’m safely away from this harbor of death. I flush and… ok, I didn’t wash my hands. I got the hell out of there.
The whole point of describing the bathroom is this: That Mishka’s, an otherwise good place to have a chat over coffee, and an excellent place to park yourself to study for hours on end (they hate that), That Mishka’s has a torture-chamber for a bathroom speaks volumes to the gilded experiences I had at this cafe, though most of them were not their fault. Let me explain. The clientele at Mishka’s ranges from seasoned cafe-goers to annoying college punks, and the Mishka’s experience that their staff hopes to provide excludes the latter group. That leads to some awkward rules that Mishka’s has established in order to preserve that “natural” cafe vibe.
Mishka’s staff strictly enforces the no-study zone, which is the 6 tables in the front of the cafe, and their first line of defense against offenders is a sign, laminated onto such tables, detailing the decree. It ends with a snobbish remark: “Those who have finished reading this and are still studying here will be first warned, and then banished from Mishka’s and will forever be relegated to Starbuck’s Coffee.” I understand where they’re coming from, but as a sensitive asian man, I’m not feeling the cool cafe vibe with threats like this.
Just if you were wondering, there’s another set of laws at Mishka’s which is posted arbitrarily along the walls. They are more or less reminders of common etiquette a cafe-goer should already have. That these laws are plastered all over the walls says one thing: Get The Hell Out, All Ye Students Ruining The Cool Cafe Vibe!
And here’s a bit of irony. The staff at Mishka’s treat their customers with this strange indifference that betrays the warm, cafe feel they mean to promote. Maybe there’s just too many customers to smile at each one. But to me, their cursory interactions are like the branded orange and red seats at McDonalds, complete with the hurried music, that makes you want to eat and leave. Maybe that’s the whole point – after all, I made most of these observations while I studied there for like 5 hours, so they probably hate me.
A note about the music – I appreciate that Mishka’s doesn’t go overboard with it, because half the people there would rather listen to their own music anyway. Curiously though, after long spans of silence, they’ll play random ethnic music for a little while. Then silence, or normal mellow cafe music, and then some Indian or West African complication. It’s just a funny little peculiarity you’d almost expect at a place as ethnic-sounding as Mishka’s.
So there’s Mishka’s. Definitely go there to study or grab some coffee. Even smile at the barista if you feel so brave. Just don’t use the bathroom. I beg you.
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