For some, “Hell is other people,” but for one local blogger, hell is just one person: the maitre d’ at Kramerbooks & Afterwords, who governed over last Sunday’s brunchtime with a haughty manner and a tendency toward “psychological abuse.” There were snippy quips over bathroom tokens, for example, and memories that seem to have been remembered in German. But the whole matter ended up taking an existential turn for the worse:

I also heard Herr Säuglingsmörder berating several other patrons, notably someone who missed their name being called. The patron tried to insist that he had been in the store the whole time, but Lord Testicalshredder at his little podium of power called him out for having a Starbucks cup in his hand – BUSTED! But something Yelly McImpatient said to the now-indicted customer struck me:

“You can’t leave the store! You can’t leave the store!!!”

My god, I thought, he’s right! You can’t leave! That’s what they’re doing here! They are amassing bodies in this bookstore – for what? To harvest their body heat for energy for Testy Von Why-Am-I-40-Years-Old-And-Shouting-”Party-of-Three”-For-A-Living to devour? To muster a great hipster army bedecked in vintage tees?

Lest you think it is an exaggeration to suggest that this whole experience describes a headlong descent into the void of a Stygian netherworld, know this: there was also freak-folk music being played. Saints preserve us, now, and in the hour of our brunch.