Green Eggs Cafe rat conundrum (I'll throw my own hat into the headline ring with "Broken Sewer Pipe Leads to Shitty Situation."*) is the fact that almost a week has passed and nobody out there has compared this to one of my
It got me thinking about the parallels between the movie and Philly food (with a tiny bit of poetic license for one of the characters).
An aging diminutive chef who's ready to cash out:
A woman in a man's world, eager to make a name for herself:
And a goofy shithead who becomes an overnight success for reasons not even the most brilliant market researchers can figure out (I thought about the locals and came up empty on local goofy shitheads. Can't wait to try your Good Stuff, Spike!):
So instead of crucifying Green Eggs Cafe for something that was obviously not their fault, simply picture a real life Ratatouille playing out in Midtown Village (with ServSafe certified rats). And while you're at it, think about the fact that you wipe your butt, then wash your hands, then use them to eat. Or if you used to live in New York City, think about the time you got bedbugs. It was a rough couple of weeks, but nobody sentenced you to a life of quarantine on leper island. This is kind of a similar situation, and I'm sure the Green Eggs folks are going to make double- and triple-sure that their place will be clean enough to eat off the floors for the indefinite future. Here's hoping that this doesn't shut them down completely, because this business is already hard enough as it is. Buen provecho.
*If there have been puns, please forgive me for living under a rock.