TODAY IS THE SECOND DAY STRAIGHT JOSH AND I ATE BREAKFAST AT Tokyo. It sits at the corner of two alleyways, in the center of the block that borders Venice and Culver to the north and south and Cardiff and Bagley to the east and west in Culver City. It's run by a street-tough gang of smiley old Japanese ladies who serve $2.60 French toast breakfasts and $3.85 vegetable yakisoba at portions that will anger the greedy and obese, but will leave everyone else feeling mature and wise. They serve cigarettes and Budweiser, a remnant from the restaurant's early years in the 80s when a meal wasn't a meal without ash in it. Service is warm and prompt. The bathroom is dark and smells like shit. The food is greasy yet clean, unhealthy yet you still somehow feel like you're cheating arteriosclerosis. Their bacon is salty and crunchy. Their chocolate milkshakes are like cupfuls of cold, sweet cloud. Every french fry is a 'bottom fry'. Monk said his home potatoes taste like old people smell. I order the grilled cheese sandwich every time and wouldn't dream of anything else. The pheebs at Yelp rave about its 'amazing decor' but it's not amazing; it's standard-issue truckstop shit you can find across the country. What's amazing is the fact that L.A.'s beautification Nazis haven't turned it into a Gap Kids yet.

If melted Kraft singles on toast still make your nipples tingle, this is the place for you.

Tokyo 7-7 Coffee Shop, 3839 Main St., ste. B, Culver City. Closes at 3pm, shut weekends. [Yelp]

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