Like everybody else, I go to Maharaja Cuisine of India (Capitol Hill) for the cheap booze in the dark bar. That's it. But even if you're not eating there, seeing a rat running across the floor means only one thing: time to go to another bar. "No, tell me I did not see that," said Blak of Silent Lambs Project. He, myself, and Jace (also of SLP) were having drinks in the cave at the back of the restaurant. It was around 6 pm. "Yeah, it is what I saw," said Blak. "And it ain't even in a hurry." Jace and I turned saw the dirty little thing merrily trotting toward the kitchen. "It's time to go," said Jace. We settled our bill and walked across the street to the Rosebud to finish our drinking and talking. There is nothing worse than seeing a rat in a restaurant. Nothing. (Fuck what you saw on Ratatouille.) The Maharaja has got to get its shit together.