Alien Cafe closed and then opened again. Their facade is certainly sick, yes, but their food is the workaday Sysco stuff of any-old cafe. That would be fine were the interior as stunning as the exterior, but the interior is meek and unassertive. Could be a Greek place, or an Egyptian one, or one of those places that sells goat meat curry, or a place that delivers sugary pasta in a foil pie tin. The facade is the work of a madman, the interior is the doing of a milquetoast.
No one goes to Alien Cafe because once you’ve seen the sign you’ve gotten all you can reasonably get from Alien Cafe. Why bother to pay eight dollars for a soggy burger? You can get the same soggy burger at any dumb diner.
It is hard to look at Alien Cafe because it is a flailing miscarriage. It is the half-realized dream of a partway genius. It is going to die, it has no oxygen, it barfs up everything it eats. It is hard to watch such a thing. And you want to help the poor creature, you want to go in and eat a passable salad or somesuch because you so strongly support the signage but you know that you’re just delaying the inevitable. Alien Cafe is open for business; Alien Cafe is already dead.