Adventures of a Gal

After an enjoyable evening at Buttermilk in Brooklyn with friends (and about 5 cocktails), D decided he was mad hungry and needed to eat IMMEDIATELY. We drove over to our usual 24 hour diner spot (Purity Diner on 7th Ave.), but too our shock and sadness — it had closed down !! We drove around a bit looking for another 24/7 establishment and as we drove, my stomach began to growl, as well.

D suggested that we drive over to 3rd Ave. and Atlantic Ave. to a diner that he used to go to that he said was called “Brooklyn Diner.” We arrived (even found a parking spot right out front!) and I had to pee really badly. Upon entering, I thought it looked pretty grotesque. I searched out the restrooms, which were downstairs and left D at our table (complete w/ a computer?!?). It smelled funky downstairs and when I found the Ladies room, the door didn’t lock at all. I went in…it was bad. No toilet paper, no paper towels and my feet stuck to the floor. Peeling my feet off of the NASTY floor, I was tempted to run back out and just go home, but my need to pee was INTENSE. However, there was no toilet paper or anything else that I would want to wipe myself with. Luckily, I had a maxi pad in my pocket. Desperate times and all that, I squatted and held my clothing VERY near. As I was hovering, I took a look around. It was D I R T Y. The smell was so bad that my appetite disappeared before I even realized it had gone. Hand washing was scary…and then I high-tailed it outta there. I flung open the door using my jacket sleeve and almost ran face first into an Asian mad wearing an 80’s type blazer and jeans. He was carrying a very large bucket to the men’s room. I booked upstairs.

When I got back, bladder no longer pulsating, I took a look around. The floors had old smooshed food and wrappers peppering them. I sat down and D could immediately tell I was creeped out. I suggested that we just leave before the waitress even came up, but he NEEDED to eat. Suddenly, a man with a ratty Green Bay Packers jacket on ran over. With the very large humpty dumpty manager close behind him, he started ranting about how he had tons of drugs in his pocket and that NO ONE called the police on him! The tubby manager calmed him down and asked him to come back to the front. They continued their dispute until we left. It was like an episode of COPS in the background. I wanted to bolt. Just as my flight instinct kicked in, the waitress arrived. I looked down at the menu and it said “City Lights Diner.” OMG, this is the place that D had told me about for years — how he’d come there years before and it was the nastiest place he had ever been! What?!?!?!? Why would he make me come here?!?!?!? My eyes were wildly searching every inch of floor and seat around me. Did that just move?!?!?! I heard D give an order, so I made one up, too. I was trying to convince myself that I could eat. I was hungry afterall.

When the food came I took a look at my fork. It had old crust between the tines that looked older than me. Hell no. I put it down and gagged at the food before me. D, of course, was wolfing his down like it was the last supper. The seats had old food and garbage piled up in the seams. Everything about this place screamed BACTERIA!!! It wasn’t good. D promised that he would eat fast and as soon as he did, I paid our $13.05 and we got the fuck outta there.

I am now lying in my bed and have washed my hands about 5 times since I got home. When he wakes up sober in the morning…I hope he will admit that it was in fact the nasty City Lights Diner that he had warned me about for the passed 6 years and not the “Brooklyn Diner.” I hope he doesn’t have some weird gastric disorder from eating those flimsy smelly eggs. Ick.

I just Googled the place, which is in fact CITY LIGHTS DINER and found these interesting, health code violations. They are only from January of this year!!!!! DUDE, I’m so glad I didn’t eat there. Frig.