OK it goes without saying that maid cafes are a dodgy concept, but they turn out to be weirder and more disturbing than I could possibly have imagined. I might not be believed, but I didnt: mean to go to one. I just got the lift up to the third floor to have a look, not suspecting that the lift would open directly into the cafe. Before I knew what was happening I had been accosted by two or three young girls in uber-maid outfits, in a tiny cafe painted pink with pictures of kittens and flowers everywhere, and ushered to a table. There was high-pitched girly electro music playing, and all the maids also spoke in incredibly high-pitched voices.
*My* maid then came up and explained that we had to do a little ritual together to light a magic candle for my table. This involved counting down from three and then clapping three times. It was an electric candle. But I went along with it. She then asked my name, and when I told her, she wrote “Princess Julia” on a little card. At least that’s what she told me. She wrote it in Japanese so who knows. I ordered a coffee, resisting the temptation to order an omelette (the maid draws on it with sauce when it gets to your table, a leaflet informed me) or a full meal (she does a dance too). Coffee only involved a further magic ritual to make it as nice as possible. This involved making a half heart shape with one hand, then doing the same with the other hand, bringing your hands together then rocking from side to side twice. She insisted we do it together, and I can:t have been doing it right the first time cause she made me do it again. Even so, I don:t think it worked cause it was the worst coffee I have ever tasted.
Still, I don:t think the assortment of men of varying ages in there were worried about the quality of the coffee. There were some women in there, other than me, but they were about 14. #feelingreallyreallyoutofplace
What the maids thought I have no idea