iving in a cabin in the woods, we had a mouse problem. Inspired by the Green Mile, we named the first mouse that we encountered Mr. Jangles. Once you name something, it's harder to kill it; harder, but not impossible. Mr. Jangles was fruitful and multiplied at an alarming rate. We also named the offspring, the visiting cousins, and the interlopers; they all became Mr. Jangles. It was easier to keep track of them that way. One by one, we started to execute them, though not by stomping or strangulation. Traps were set: ominous mid-movie clicks and sad, futile scurry attempts filled the nighttime air. As spring set in, the remaining Jangles disappeared like little Thoreaus, returning to the forest and fields from which they had come. Poor Mr. Jangles.

Taking its name from a Jazz busker, rather than a fictional pet, Bojangles Café is mouse and murder free. A coffee house/restaurant, Bojangles serves light fare from a small-bite, sandwich and soup/chili card in a comfortably cool, jazz soundtracked atmosphere. Expect well-prepared beans and blood-free hands. As for us: our hands will never be clean again (proverbially: "out, damn spot"). -S.T.