| Ride Stats |
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Distance:
14.70 miles
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Time: 01:21:00
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Avg Speed:
10.89 mph
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Max Speed:
15.00 mph
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Weight:
172
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Effort:
2 - Toodling 10-12 mph
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Route:
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Altitude Gain:
0 ft
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Terrain: Road: Flat
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Bike: Bacchetta GIRO 20 (SOLD FEB 2010) SWB Bent
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Club: 'BentRider Recumbent Club |
| Weather Conditions: A bit cool...but nice |
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While cycling slowly by what one might call a "run down strip mall" at the corner of the stores I spotted the word "Diner".
If you didn't live in the NY environs ( and that includes the multitude of diners in NJ) then the image that pops into the mind's eye when it sees "Diner" is foreign to you. But to someone like me who longs for only the taste that comes from a greasy diner, spotting this ramshackle place called out for me to get off my bike, walk inside, and check out the menu.
Opening the door I knew I stepped back in time.
There was no fancy computer at the counter, just an old fashioned hand cranked adding machine and the ever familiar diner checks stabbed through the heart on a spindle. I do know why there's a hand crank machine: The owner gets to report whatever receipts he wants to for the day. No computer file. No electronic cash register, just his "tally". Yes, it's called "Cash Management".
Looking around I did step back in time to my diner days in NY.
- The tables were a mix of 50's deco with the false mahogony sheet vinyl tops and the vinyl padded chair or just old straight back chairs.
- Many of the tables from the lunch crowd were still uncleaned, dishes piled upon dishes.
- There was a counter with the "help yourself" dishes or bowls of pickles and cole slaw.
- At the counter looked to be a few regulars reading the paper while having some kind of egg omelet at 1:00 in the afternon.
- A "Pass The Food Thru Here" hole in the wall and behind the short order cook slinging around food and pans. The short order cook was a character right out of Damon Runyon looking as if he had just escaped from Riker's Island.
- The owner at the counter sported a grizzled beard, shirt half in and half out, having something to personally say to each of the regulars as they paid thier chit: "How's the kid in collich do'n Miss Brown?"
- My waiter came over and said "How ya do'n and whatcha want?"
My menu came with grease stains. Wouldn't have it any other way.
My BLT and fries came with grease stains. Wouldn't have it any other way.
Driving by this place in a car I doubt I would have noticed. I would have been focused on the road ahead. Being on my bike I got to focus on the path traveled some time ago.
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