Last week I wrote a DK diary lament about the loss of a favorite local haunt:
OK, it was a Denny's. But it was our Denny's and it had been for 50 years.
I'm back to report that I'm not handling this loss very well.
Driving home tonight from an event honoring outstanding local high school seniors, my husband and I passed the hulk of the now-defunct Denny's. My sense of closing options in a very rich county for the not-rich got me all riled up again.
It was after 9 PM. We wanted to stop in a clean, safe place--with a simple menu, booths, friendly staff, and with relatively affordable prices. Plus, it had to be, you know, open.
Denny's was the last sit-down, 24/7 restaurant left in this little patch of paradise. So our options were:
1) Go to a bar.
2) Catch the last few minutes at a very expensive restaurant.
3) Hustle into the 24-hour Safeway and round up some take-out goodies
4) Drive south into San Francisco and go to Mel's (back to my previous diary http://www.dailykos.com/...)
Which was too long a trip for us by now.
Or just call it a night and go home.
Which we did.
Yes, I get it. This is a First World Problem. All the nastiness in the world and, boo-boo: we couldn't sit down at a diner and have a later-evening sundae and an iced tea or some pie or . . . well, dammit!! I don't care. I wanted to. Pout.
In time, I'll heal. I guess.
It's even later now (see Diary date and time)--and I'm even hungrier.