Mecca

I almost walked by. The bar on Google maps I was heading for was closed for repairs so I just started strolling. Checked out the block with Safeway and a yoga studio on it. Took another turn and saw the sign for The Mecca.  Given the name and prevalence of Asian cuisine in the area I almost dismissed but something made me turn.  The door has two martini glasses crossed behind a high ball glass.  Yeah, that’s my jam.

The all-day breakfast was a pleasant surprise also.  This could be my everyday joint if the food tastes good.  I’m already drinking an Irish coffee that warms  me to the soul.  The waitress/bartender is the perfect type of don’t-give-a-fuck nice person that gets to you when she gets to you.  A patient smile and tired eyes are the only thing she’ll show the customer.  I’m at the worn Formica bar running the length of a shotgun diner.  There’s burn scars from coffee pots and miscellaneous scratches and dents that only comes from years of consistent use.  Most of the people trickling in are disappearing into a room left of the door.  I spotted a pinball machine in that direction that warrants further inspection.

Oddly, this breakfast diner qualifies as a dive bar also.  It’s not pretentious or overdone.  I would guess they keep the same chill vibe no matter what time of the week and then weekends are jam-packed with yuppies looking for hangover cures.  The place I originally started toward is labeled a dive on Google but the fact it’s listed there has me inherently suspicious of its qualifications.  This place is hidden in plain sight on a busy street near a tourism hub and only lucky looky-lous and those guided by locals get to experience this blast from the past.

So far the food is good.  I know this is a place I’ll come again.  If for no other reason, they serve a $6 waffle.

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