Because my cluttered study is shared with wife and sons (teenaged and kindergartenish); because ‘Net-wading and inbox adventures sometimes feel like Actual Work; because laundry and dishes sometimes shout louder than my keyboard does; and because I had a nearby appointment anyway, I spent a big chunk of my work day at Ada’s Diner. I read, I ate, I planned, I ate, I wrote and I ate. Working bliss! (Today, I love being a writer.)
Over three hours, I did actually get done some decent work and some needed spring cleaning of the cerebral kind, but mostly I like diners. I discovered Ada’s a few years ago, when I was taking some supply-teaching dates at the elementary school around the corner. It’s a tiny storefront restaurant with clean floors and tables, good food and friendly people. There actually is an Ada, with a husband who bakes fresh muffins for the weekend brunch crowds and a pretty, smiling server who’s been there for several years. (Just realized that, unlike many of her customers, I don’t know her name. Not getting to Ada’s often enough!)
At Ada’s, I get the impression that my patronage is genuinely welcome. I feel like a real person rather than an object of marketing and plastic hospitality. Nobody knows my name there, yet, but it’s a cheery and homely place. Here’s to Ada!