Rest in peace, you funky place you. At the end of my block on the corner of Broome and Mott there once was a restaurant named Funky Broome. Then it became Jazzy Wok. And lastly it was the Funky Thai Cafe. After each incarnation the decor got greener, purpler, and shimmerier, until it was a beast of funky that no mortal dared to enter. Its food: decent. Its location: great. And yet every time I walked past its panoramic windows there was nothing but a still life of heinous flower-painted tables and opal-cushioned chairs. Two people might be inside the po-mo fever dream on a busy night. They really tried their darndest, claiming “the best pad thai in town” (which wasn’t true but they had good pad see ew). And then came the “free tater tots” sign, which signaled the beginning of the end.
I always sighed a little “oh…” when walking past, rooting for it like the little engine that could. And then it finally dawned on me that I could help! I went in one day and in the nicest way suggested that they could really get more business if it wasn’t quite so purple and ugly inside. I would happily offer my design skills pro bono to turn this neighborhood joint into a bustling local favorite! For the public good! Alas, the woman said she wished I came earlier because the owner was so tired, so very tired, and he had already decided to sell it.
A few weeks later its doors were permanently shuttered, until one day last week when they held a public auction to sell all their kitchen riff raff and funkdefied decor. No one showed up for that either. Oh…
