They used to be every small town’s most treasured institution. Right there on Main Street. Regulars starting dropping in as soon as the doors opened, which was early. Coffee was poured without asking in thick china mugs. Mabel called you by name and asked about the family.
Who would rather eat an Egg McMuffin on the run?
Most of us, if the truth be known. “On the run” being the operative word. A leisurely breakfast? One Sunday a month, maybe. Certainly not on a Thursday morning.
Except they’re still out there. You just have to get away from the freeways a little to find them. They still have Blue-Plate specials, except maybe they don’t call them that any more. Except sometimes they still do.
Maybe it’s the people who are the regulars at the small time diners who are the disappearing breed. They were born before personal computers, much less cell phones. They didn’t stay connected by starting their morning with Facebook. The Main Street diner was their social media.
Plus it came with coffee.
Put it on your bucket list. Get out and away from the city this weekend. Get an early start — if you don’t get going until 10am they’ll probably still be serving breakfast, but most of the regulars will have gone by then. Get off the freeway and venture into small town America.
Have yourself some grits.