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<\/a><\/p>\nMy server didn’t approve of my choice to\u00a0have milk with my granola instead of yogurt, and let her displeasure be known. The granola was great, like a homemade version of \u00a0Sugar Smacks loaded with many varieties\u00a0of nuts. Took this photo of this guy outside the\u00a0window, holding a bouquet of daisies and texting, thinking he\u2019s\u2019 gonna get lucky.<\/p>\n Before I left, he walked in with the object of his affection; a blonde in supple black leather. No wonder he was so hopeful.<\/p>\n Decided to walk to the Benois wing of the Russian museum and set out, following my Google Maps GPS. I pasted in an\u00a0address from\u00a0my master\u00a0list. Bad call. It led me far away in the wrong direction. When I figured out I had nearly walked back to my old hotel, I stopped and called Uber. Know when you are defeated.<\/p>\n Scooted\u00a0to the first place on my shopping list,\u00a0Loft Project Etazhi<\/a> (74 Ligovsky Prospect). I vaguely recalled it described as many arty shops\u00a0in a loft. Pay dirt! Walked into the courtyard from the street into a mash-up\u00a0of Wonderroot, Krog Street market, Homegrown, with an East Atlanta\/Earl<\/a> vibe. Skinny, young(er) people with bubblegum pink streaks in peacock blue hair, or shaved and cut at angles, or \u2013 extra credit \u2013 a sprongy mass of dreds to the waist. Guys with green top knots. Everyone pecking away on their phones, more texting then talking. Lots of\u00a0I-am-too-cool-to have-a-facial-expression stares, but also lots of little kids, from babes in arms to toddlers lurching around, to resigned youths of eight or nine glued to their iPhones. It reminded me of\u00a0\u00a0Krog Street Market, but much rougher physically,\u00a0People kept pouring in, paying\u00a0100 rubles to get in the loft door. It was a street party in an alley.<\/p>\n The interior was falling apart (sections of the wooden bannister rail came off in my hand. Twice,) but creatively divvyed up. Multiple tiny cubbies, made with loving hands out of scrap wood and lollypop colored plastic panels and insulation board. Raw edges and patchwork of found materials; the unisex bathroom stall doors were made out of insulation foam boards.\u00a0 There were five floors of these hole-in the-wall-shops stocked with hipster\/boho\/Goth\/hippie\/rocker\/souvenier merch. Excellent! Some American thrift store tat, cool\u00a0local designers who must be sewing in their bedrooms, sneakers, \u2018herbs\u2019, soap, pizza\u00a0on hotplates and pushed\u00a0through windows, magnets, charms, cards, leather cuff bracelets, and so on.<\/p>\n I thought this would be ideal\u00a0for Robin, but needed her confirmation. Texted her the photo.<\/p>\n I didn’t hear back – I think it was 2am her time – \u00a0so ended up buying a few small things and a\u00a0teeshirt.\u00a0On the fourth floor I stepped into a large open\u00a0restaurant where the bread factory had been. Made by loving hands hippie decor reminded me of back in the day in Haight-Ashbury. \u00a0Wooden crates, for light fixtures, tin buckets for delivering the check, Yellow butterflies cut out of construction paper and tacked onto every exposed surface; walls,\u00a0ducts,\u00a0columns, windows, and tables. I thought of Remedios the Beauty in 100 Years of Solitude<\/a><\/em> who metamorphoses into yellow butterflies. Or maybe it’s a sly reference to Nabokov. The window ledges were lined with tropical plants\u00a0and desert cacti. Intended to\u00a0order something safe, but asked the waitress what she suggested. Mushroom pancakes was her answer\u00a0and I said yes,\u00a0though\u00a0my heart sank. She brought me blini with fresh saut\u00e9ed \u00a0mushrooms in a light cream sauce and it was fantastic. My\u00a0lucky day!<\/p>\n Three costumed figures turned up. \u00a0I don’t know if they were\u00a0folk tale Russian characters or\u00a0hipster weirdness. This\u00a0couple wandered around doing mime and posing with the clientele.<\/p>\n A top floor art\u00a0gallery displayed\u00a0drippy versions of famous people; Bill Murray, Frida Kahlo, Woody Allen. No Russians. The air was redolent with\u00a0Hookah smoke, pizza, sneezy incense, coffee, and that essential oils and soap reek. Thumping club music, twittery\u00a0electronica, American R&B made it an ongoing battle of the bands. \u00a0Looked out the window and saw the green buds of birch tree leaves dotting the bare branches and remember how when he saw the sticky little leaves as they open in spring, Ivan Karamazov fell back in love with the world he wanted to renounce<\/a>. Then\u00a0this happened;<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/a><\/p>\n<\/a>