Here's what the Fat City Cafe in Multnomah Village looked like this afternoon. The place was packed, the staff was frazzled and a fan in the kitchen filled the dining area with smoke because snow kept clogging an air vent on the roof. Meanwhile outside, the surrounding neighborhood looked downright pastoral.

My first job was as a busboy at the cafe in the '90s when it was owned by a former NFL player and his wife. Two things I didn't know about the place until I found its webpage a few minutes ago:

A man shot his would-be lover in the cafe's basement and there's bullet holes in the walls to prove it. From what I remember, it's creepy enough down there as it is.

One of the current co-owners used to sing in a punk band that toured with Black Flag.

I've been going to Fat City since I was a kid and the staff still doesn't raise an eyebrow when someone like me orders a chocolate milkshake to with an omelet. It's that kinda place.

Labels: restaurants, snow