Sure, the Brooklyn Cat Café sounds adorable. You can come in and hang with kitties, eat some snacks, and even adopt a fuzzy buddy if you want. Who doesn’t want fewer homeless kitties in the world? Surely not me, the gal who DVRs My Cat From Hell and actually owns Jackson Galaxy’s memoir. (It’s good!)
Honestly, though? The idea of a cat café is gross as hell. I have two cats, and they are constantly sneezing on me, spending suspicious amounts of time scratching around in their litter box, and occasionally yarfing up half-digested kibble (which is, like, $30 a bag because they have to eat special hypoallergenic food, thank you very much). Why would I pay to go to a café when I can enjoy such luxuries as wondering “is that a fur ball or puke or a combo?” in the comfort of my own apartment, where pants are not required?
Even if you don’t have a cat and would love to experience the joy of snuggling one, you have to admit that cats are disgusting in large numbers. There is not a Glade Plugin in the world that can mask the smell of a dozen cats, a smell that will surely detract from the taste of the $5 cookie you purchased.
The Brooklyn Cat Cafe officially opens today. Go, I’m sure it’ll be fine.
