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| - I had the damndest time trying to find this place! I was supposed to go a couple weeks ago and got so frustrated I turned my car around and hung out in Tempe instead. Tonight-I was bloody determined to find it. Still got turned around, but finally-hidden behind a bunch of trees and connected some kind of sporting event sales place, there was the Willow House-damn!
Beautiful stones laid out on the grass, a kind of bubbling brook (man-made) and a lot of picnic tables on the corner of McDowell and 2nd Ave, let to stairs to the actual Willow House. There were tons of options on the board but no prices (?) and the pastries, as noted, did not look that appealing. The barista I thought was pleasant and made small talk and a small chai soy latte. It came to a whopping $4.09 (!) which I was pretty surprised by, but coughed up the cash. It was actually a mix and way too sweet for me, but he did steam the soy for me pretty well.
With Soy Chai in hand, I wandered around. It is narrow at first and there all these Mexican and day of the dead kind of knick-knacks and random merchandise displayed. There is a little nook, must have been a closet, with some random vintage clothing reasonably priced and handsomely displayed there. I noted to my right was a Non-Smoking room with some people intent on laptops and older couples chatting-seemed pleasant and actually a little quiet (couldn't tell if it was a 'weird' quiet or a nice zen like quiet). I wandered more (this place is deceptively large) and ended up in a large open room with chairs and large tables where people could smoke. It opened out to a glass-enclosed narrow front room (that faced McDowell) with a high counter and some two seater and four seater tables. There were guys chatting and talking about chainsaws (I was reminded somewhat eerily of Linklater's movie Slacker). I moved away from that odd little conversation to a room with cheap LPs, some awesome 2 buck cassette tapes (Best of Bill Cosby, Guns n Roses, Heart-what!), an odd little table and interesting but somewhat amatuerish art on the walls. Unfortunately this also let me peer into a small backroom/dark kitchen (!?) with a dude making a sandwich...with his barehands. It was kind of creepy. Dream-like, really. I quickly walked away from that observation and noted never to get a sandwich here. I stumbled upon some more nooks and crannies displaying totebags and glass jewelrey before stepping out and resting at one of their picnic tables and watching the traffic on McDowell.
Eh.
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