Saturday, May 25, 2013


The placemats, new but old-new, thin cheap paper and washed-out palette, highly informative. If conversation flags, you can always study the drink recipes.

Forks, occasionally crusted with dried egg. Water, honest NYC kitchen tapwater in food service glasses. Bowls of pickles that taste of bandaid. The waitress who, barely glancing down, proclaims my two-year-old niece "cute" in a voice that says, "I have seen an awful lot of two-year-olds in my 25 years here. They are all the same."

Uncharming, with their strange lighting and listless food on thick chipped plates, diners are the same world without end. I have conducted my business in these places: love affairs over pancakes. Turkey club sandwiches after funerals. Gossip, crying jags, laughter that tipped me sideways out of my seat.

Long may they continue to thrive, in their vinyl-coated, Star-Trek-lighting-fixtured glory!


Anonymous said...

At the moment I'd like to work meself through the Cocktail Guide.

Leah said...


savannah said...

*cheers* xoxoxoxo

nick said...

What we call greasy spoons over here. Don't frequent them much now, I have the money to patronise the trendier eating places. But I used greasy spoons a lot when I was young, especially for huge but cheap lunches when my wages were pitifully low. In those days we all had cooked lunches, the idea of getting by on sandwiches was still laughable.

Leah said...

There are such wonderful diners scattered across the South!


Leah said...

Nick, we call them greasy spoons too! I didn't realize You Lot did too until I recently heard another English friend refer to them as such.

And nice restaurants are great, but sometimes only a diner will do... ;-)