I drove up I-95 to Newark, DE a couple weekends ago. I was meeting a friend at the Korner Diner for a late lunch. The mood inside the diner that day was a buzz of energy, but I could sense an undertone of sadness. It was as if the whole room could feel that their time was almost up, but nobody wanted to acknowledge it unless they had to. They were all going about their business like it was any old day. The jukebox began echoing the mournful notes of Coldplay’s The Scientist. I looked up from my French fries into the face of a waitress with tears trickling down her face. Today was the death of the Korner Diner.
My friend Bethany goes to the University of Delaware and has worked at the Korner Diner for the past four years. Every time I visit her at school we always end up at the diner. Any time of day we can walk in the doors and expect to find familiar faces and someone to sit and chat with. For Bethany, the Korner Diner has been a home away from home and her coworkers have become good friends. When she heard that the diner would be closing for good, it was by far the most disappointing thing to happen to her during college.
As the last customers paid their bills, the jukebox moved on to Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven. And there were more tears: another waitress hugging one of the hosts, Bethany tearing up over the last milkshake she’d ever make. I know what you’re thinking. This all sounds so sappy and cliché and it was just a diner after all. Well you’re right, it was just a diner. But it was our diner.
3 comments:
Sounds like this must have been an amazing diner. Your story has good voice and really made me get a good feel for what it was like to be there that day.
Its great to have something so simple mean so much to you sometimes. Its sad to know that the diner is closing, but it should be a good feeling that you and your friend still have the memories of the diner.
I really like the ending! I think you effectively described exactly what you felt and how much the diner meant to you.
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