THE FINAL FATE OF THE RISING CAFE AND THE CONTINUING DOUCHEIFICATION OF PARK SLOPE

In my days as the resident male in a crew of hella-fun lesbians, we all used to hang out at the good ol' Rising Cafe on 5th Avenue in Park Slope, but that sanctuary fell victim to the changing landscape of the neighborhood (translation: neuveau riche douchebags moving in and turning every goddamned thing into boutiques, antique stores or overpriced eateries with sucky food). It has lain fallow for nearly two years, and as I was walking past it not ten minutes ago I saw that the place was open and a work crew was gutting it. I asked the nearest worker what was going to be taking the Rising's place and he answered me with the dreaded words "Tex-Mex."

Yep, a former summit of Sapphic philosophy and hookin' up is now slated to be just another of the dogshit-on-a-plate restaurants that riddle the neighborhood like cancer, a restaurant that in all likelihood will open for a month or two's worth of curiosity seekers and quietly close when their ridiculous prices and almost-certainly terrible fare forces it to give up the ghost. Many such establishments within a ten block radius of my apartment have come and gone in the past few years, and no one shed a tear when they left. Some sad examples of this trend are:

• The little Korean convenience store that once occupied the southeast corner of 5th Avenue and Union Street became first an overpriced bar with pretensions of grandeur, closed after six months, re-opened as a bar/restaurant called the Gowanus Lounge and swiftly shut its doors after another three months and is now another faceless boutique for twenty-somethings whose taste in fashion makes them look like life-size Barbies and Kens.
• The former dry cleaners on the corner of 5th Avenue and President Street closed to become the blazingly offensive Bibi's, an outrageously expensive chow house with retro furniture and food so mediocre that a Swanson frozen dinner becomes gourmet by comparison; it closed after four months, closed for renovation when they mistakenly believed their lack of patronage was due to the retro look, re-opened with less business, died two months later and has been gathering moss for over a year.
• The chi-chi pizzeria that recently opened which has the unmitigated gall to not sell slices, instead forcing you to by a "personal" pizza for a minimum of fifteen bucks.
• The mediocre Arab-run convenience store that was across the way from the former Korean store is being renovated into a real estate agency, an establishment that this neighborhood already has a surplus of.
  

And there's no end in sight. As Manhattan becomes less recognizable each day, the sickness makes its way to the other boroughs and soon this place will be an unlivable breeding ground for nondescript yuppie shitheads and their pod-like offspring. Please, gods, let me make enough cash to flee this madness...