On Valentine's, you gave it your best shot. And after 10 days, you've realized it's not you, it's her. So it's time to end it. The only questions are when and where. Your answers are below.
It's not romantic—unless you have a thing for graffiti on the walls and factory lighting—but the food is good and served quickly, and the volume here is loud enough that the tears will be muffled.
With all the glamour of your average Greyhound station, this corner restaurant is great if you're afraid there might be a scene: bright, bustling and with large tables to keep you and your soon-to-be ex literally at arm's length. Bonus: the non-native English speaking clientele may not be familiar with some of the more choice words that will be thrown your way.
A quick-serve falafel specialist has everything you need for a particularly unromantic afternoon...actually, just one thing: garlic, and plenty of it. Sultan's hummus, baba ghanoush and kabobs teem with the stuff, helping to ward off any evil spirits that might be lingering.
On weeknights, you'll practically have this tiny faded paper lantern of a bar (modeled after a 1940s Chinese restaurant) to yourselves to discuss how things went south over a cold Sapporo. Dry ice regularly erupts from behind the bar, which should add a little theatrical flair for when the fireworks fly.
It was fun. We had a few laughs. Let's stay friends. Let's go out for drinks sometime. You know, nothing serious. Some tacos, maybe—but somewhere fun. Another margarita? Hey, let's go check out the basement club... Before you know it, you're willing to give things a second chance—especially when the third party is the right tequila.
