It’s hard to recollect much about my first cat café besides the unmitigated pleasure of the whole experience. The place was called Cateriam, on the second floor of a nondescript building in Shimokitazawa, and it had the cozy feel of overpriced daycare, with lots of low stools and pillows, but also with branches chained to the ceiling, and plush beehive-shaped hidey-huts, and cats.
There were maybe ten or twelve of them (cats). There were little placards on the walls with their names, specs, and Twitter feeds. My brother Micah and I sat there along with two Japanese adolescents on a date—cat cafés, one of Micah’s friends subsequently told us, with some discomfort, are apparently big date spots—and we watched some cats drowse.
(Photo by Paul Miller)