They’d been here for a while. “Pshhh… people have been lining up since like 8:30am,” a cat cafe employee with batman gages and a goatee told me. This was at noon. “Capacity is only like 25 at a time, so it’s moving slow.”
Just then, a middle-aged man wearing a Lennie Briscoe trench coat began politely herding me against the building. Ostensibly, this was to let through all the New Yorkers who preferred their cafes cat-free, but pretty much everyone in eye-shot seemed to be here for the “coffee, conversation, and cats!” advertised on the sign.
Lennie (fake name) identified himself as Frampton (real, awesome name), and told me he was working “private security detail” for the event. Frampton was a doorman at the hottest cat cafe in town.