Portable Curiosities by Julie Koh

Author:Julie Koh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Queensland Press

Slow Death in Cat Cafe

A cat cafe in Strathfield, in the state of New South Wales, is seceding from the Australian nation.

The owner of the cafe, a balding Chinese man, declares his intention to secede over a loudspeaker while I’m sitting on the blond wood floor of his establishment eating a slice of Meow Meow Mud Cake.

The man wants to transform the cat cafe, called Cat Cafe, into a micronation called the Republic of Cat Cafe.

He has a list of justifications, which he reads out.

First, he objects to local council’s obsession with hygiene, in particular its draconian ban on the presence of cats in areas where food is served.

Second, the international community is in dire need of a nation that exists solely for the benefit of cats, to protect them from the vagaries of human nature.

Third, people everywhere are crying out for an imagined Community of Cute in the midst of a world gone mad.

The owner folds up his list and declares the Republic of Cat Cafe to be the greatest utopian project in the history of mankind.

‘Is this a marketing stunt?’ I ask. ‘I mean, to create an actual nation you’d need your own territory, right?’

I’m pretty certain that the land on which this cafe stands, in the busiest part of Strathfield, is territory that Australia is unlikely to give up any time soon.

‘I pay the rent,’ says the man. ‘Renting is basically owning.’

Although wobbly on his territorial claim, the cafe owner has thought of everything else. He’s surprisingly well-prepared. He has a cartoon flag and coat of arms ready, both emblazoned with the motto ‘Community of Cute’. He has boxes filled with hot-pink Cat Cafe passports and newly minted Cat Cafe coins.

The national anthem, in Japanese, is a bouncy super-cute pop song. The owner plays it on the sound system as he trots around the cafe introducing the members of cat royalty, one by one.

‘Princess Mittens, Lady Mumbles, Duchess Ragamuffin …’

Once he’s done, he turns to the humans in the cafe.

‘You are all citizens of the Republic of Cat Cafe,’ he shouts. His shout is positively Hitlerian.

‘Will we have to pay taxes?’ I ask.

‘We’re a tax heaven.’

‘How are you going to defend the Republic? Do you have an army?’

‘I am the army,’ he shouts.

He strides to the front door and locks it. He takes a large knife from the kitchen and installs himself at the cafe entrance.

‘You’re either with us or against us,’ he shouts. ‘I henceforth declare a state of martial law.’

‘Can you really enforce cuteness using violence?’ I ask.

I realise I’m the only citizen in the cafe asking questions. The Republic’s population comprises me, in funereal black, and a bunch of other Asian girls in pretty polka-dot rompers. They’re regulars and appear to be untroubled by the owner’s crazed proclamations. They like the idea of hanging here for free – a newly declared perk of citizenship – so are on board with the whole project. Besides, the three hours they’ve already paid for, flying by at a rate of eighteen dollars an hour including complimentary drink, aren’t up yet.

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