First, the doors were closed unexpectedly. I went by Chani's, my favorite local Indian restaurant, and it was locked. There was some official-looking note about a permit change on the door, and I figured the place was getting a renovation. The answering-machine message was vague, saying something about being closed for a few weeks.
Now the phone's disconnected, the back patio is gone, and there's a truck (teasingly labeled Top Chef) parked outside to haul off the kitchen equipment.
It's closed. Closed! Where am I supposed to go when I want samosas? Chicken tikka masala? Lamb vindaloo?
Oh, the lack of such great food is bad enough, but sneaking off in the night like that ... I feel so spurned.