Adventure #11 -- Detatives!! A Failed Adventure.

Adventure - Heather

Description: Wherein Marty and Heather become detectives to find a new cafe to hang out in since their old one in Sausalito, CA became defunct; and to describe the nefarious goings on of said new cafe.


(Marty's Report):

OK, we made a go of this one, as described above, a good attempt to squeeze adventure out of what was essentially a task of replacing our old, beloved, and now defunct cafe in Sausalito. We headed out across the bridge and toodled around Sausalito, but Heather wasn't feeling the spirit in that little bay-side town. So we went off that winding road that hugs the shore line, out into the foreign lands of Tiburon. I don't think I've ever seen houses that have filled me with such bourgeois cravings as Tiburon. And the "downtown" area seems to be more there as a place for the ferries to drop their daytrippers for lunch. But it did have a cafe where you could sit and work on your laptop, as opposed to the bars and restaurants where burgers cost $12.

Maybe the failure of our adventure had, now that I think about it and try to write about it, has more to do with the sleepy, money-choked quality of the burg than perhaps our deficient souls. Because we went to Cafe Acri and got too much sugar and caffeine in us, after not enough sleep, and then puttered around the Internet rather than write our take on the nefarious doings of that cafe. I tried. I put down notes on how a hardboiled detective might see this town and the cafe, and it just petered out like one of those sad, wrinkly, half inflated balloons. Not dramatic, just deflating.

We conceded defeat, but instead of driving back down the winding road with our tails between our legs, we headed up the road, north, where neither of us had gone before. More winding road, and we felt more and more lost, which wasn't actually possible as there's only one coastline. It turns out we were driving through what apparently was Tiburon, but the scruffy-but-still-rich backside, up Paradise Drive. We came out high up on Hwy 101, and limped back home.

(Heather's Report):

(Hey Heather: describe what "detatives"means...) Well, as Marty reminded me, this is what "detatives" are. Detectives. Yes. It's that simple. Okay, here's how the story goes. Apparently, after watching some detective show on PBS or some such when living at my father's house in Springfield, VA, I put up on my door "The Detative Is: IN/OUT". I was probably about 8 or 9 years old. Then, as most of these words go, it became vernacular in the household. So, detectives are now detatives forever more in the Ussery household.

I'm a sad panda now because Marty didn't even mention my very cool hats. I made little signs that said "Detective Hat" and pinned them to our regular hats in order to make us more official of course. As you can see below, our uber officialness with our hats:
























Then off we went to find a new cafe. We stopped by our old one, just to see if some new cafe or establishment had taken over the building but alas our hopes were dashed, it was still quite empty. Still for rent. Bah.

So, I nixed the Triesta cafe down the street, it's just never felt homey to me. Of course, not a lot of cafes are going to have the great open and comfortable space of Northpoint Cafe. Then suggested going over to Tiburon, although it would be a bit out of the way for a regular cafe location. But hey, we're detectives, right! We must do anything for our craft. So off we went.

We wandered a bit, finding nothing of great interest until coming upon Cafe Acri which seemed to offer roomy space, a few couches up against the windows and apparently had free wifi (always an absolute must at a cafe, of course). There was a small problem of power as plugins were a little far and wide but we made due. Down we sat, ordered coffee, of course, to detect if they had good coffee or not. Food, as well, since that is also important. Both were okay.

And then we attempted to detect the strange goings on at this particular cafe. Such as the obviously Jewish Gay Spies sitting and conversing on their lunch hour, as you can see here. We had to very surreptitiously photograph them, me snapping quick shots as if I were just checking my phone screen. But it's not like spies would have given us permission.

There were other likely suspects around the cafe but Marty's right, it was hard to summon anything up about the whole thing. But we did have a fun time "Stumbling" on the Internet for quite a bit. I find the browser application Stumble to be quite addictive. I can do it for hours. I've found so many cool sites, like the hero creation site where you can make your own graphic hero, as you can see above, with Marty's Detective Hero. Or the odd site archiving all the strange deaths throughout history, such as the person who was killed when a fire hydrant landed on them because someone in a car swerved, hit it, it went flying and, well, landed on someone's head. How bizarre and totally random is that. You're just walking down the street and pow, you're dead. Like having a poodle falling out a window 40 stories up hit you in the head or some such.

While I don't consider this a failed adventure, it wasn't a very successful one, to be sure. Alas. And no cafe even to show for our troubles. Bah.