The cupcake line at Magnolia isn’t the only one capable of inspiring enduring scorn.
At least one neighbor of Clinton Street Baking Company has taken to the Internet to bemoan the “pancake lemmings” who wait in the restaurant’s endless brunch lines on the weekends:
Clinton Street, before nine a.m. Onto the block they march, driven by their hive mind. From Brooklyn, from Japan, from Iowa, they gather here, their temple of “in-the-know” New York, which they surely read about in an inflight magazine or Shecky’s New York. Has this joint started selling postcards yet? There are at least three hundred other brunch spots within five blocks but, no, only this one will do. They just have to eat there, so they can say they have.
Are the pancake lemmings any worse than cupcake sheep or gaggles of Shackburger geese? Apparently that depends on where you live, and how inconvenienced you are by clogged sidewalks. But the pancake lemmings have a couple of things in their favor: Unlike their West Village counterparts, they don’t arrive on buses and they know how to clean up after themselves.
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