Where Everyone Knows Your Name

I went to the diner this morning for breakfast and two guys were sitting next to me at the counter talking about a girl they know who if she just dressed better wouldn’t seem like such a whore. Is this really how guys talk? I like the old guys because they talk about things like how Jesus was lucky to have a mother like Mary (this was a conversation they had on Mother’s Day). They have great old neighborhood names like Elwood, Butchie and George.

The Diner is a great neighborhood joint. Everyone knows everyone else. It’s like the news hub of what’s going on in Manayunk. When some one is sick everyone knows, if someone dies the word is spread about when the viewing/funeral is and where. If they haven’t seen someone in a while the send out the word to see if everything is okay. That’s what makes it a great joint to go too. Since moving out of the neighborhood I still make the trek back on Saturdays. The food is diner food nothing spectacular and it is totally true that the only reason I drive the distance is because I love the people.

I was going through some old pictures and I came across this turn of the century photo of my great-aunt Margie and her friends.

Very sufferagate and I love it. It’s wonderful that I have these pictures because when I look at them I think of all the stories my mother told me about each one of them. It’s like I really knew them.

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