Silver Lake’s L.A. Mill Coffee Boutique enjoyed a gloooooowing review from S. Irene Virbila in this week’s L.A. Times Food section, and it was enough to make me put aside my disinterest in the place (fueled by a disdain against any eatery that calls itself a “boutique”) without too much prodding from my wife Susan and walk over to give the place a try for breakfast this morning.

Was the food and drink as good as Virbila gushed? We couldn’t tell you for lack of a server for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 minutes after we were seated by the hostess outside with menus. Ten minutes in with nothing but water and flatware from a passing busboy to show for our patience and grumbling tummies, I started the five-minute countdown timer of my wristwatch and told Susan that I’d be leaving if a human being hadn’t arrived tableside before the display read 0:00 and the alarm beeped. She even went inside to to alert the hostess that we were ready to order, and the hostess’ reply as to the delay was an instant classic: “Maybe the servers don’t realize it’s 9 a.m., yet,” she said, with that particular hour being when table service begins. My clock read 9:30 and the timer read 4:30. And counting.

Long rant short: the alarm sounded and we left, taking my reinforced disregard and our hunger pangs for a walk down to Dusty’s on Sunset where 15 minutes into our visit there we were enjoying our meal, not wondering if “boutique” is French for “clock-challenged.”

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3. Life Vs. Reality
4. Grizzly Bites Man, Lives
5. Putting The Ass In Calabasas