Slappy Cakes - The Extended Version

Dear People,

I think I have already told you about this magical place: Slappy Cakes. It is in Portland. Now, your next question will automatically be, "Where in Portland? What neighborhood?" I cannot help you. You see, I was born without a sense of direction. I do not drive. I do not think about where I am in relation to the larger world. I do not know what the neighborhoods in Portland are called.

I do know this though: The Internet exists and by telling you the name of the restaurant: Slappy Cakes and the word Portland - you will be able to find everything you need.

Here is the most important thing: Slappy Cakes is a restaurant where your table is a griddle and you buy pancake batter by the squeeze-ey bottle and make your own effing pancakes at your table. 

SHUT UP!
I know.

I've been there twice. The first time I went, there was no one in the place but us. The next time I tried to go there, people were lined up outside waiting to get in. I should really stop telling people about this place but I just can't help myself.

These are my friends, Tim and Merritt. They were kind enough to drive me to Slappy Cakes at the crack of dawn. Look how excited Tim looks! p.s. Merritt has a baby inside of her.

This is my friend Marlo. She is also very excited!

This is the table that is also a griddle. Look at Merritt's belly!

We arrived with these other people - literally the moment they opened for the day.

My first pancake attempt. MONEY!

I go for the flip.

I bungle it.

I think this pancake was too complex for my first try.

PAC MAN!

BOOBS!

Unrelated, but these two Slappy Cakes customers cracked me up because they looked like an old married couple reading together at the table, but one of them is 5. Ha!

The end. (Tim wanted less kissed and more PANCAKES!!!)