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| - we often spend much time keeping abreast of the newest bar or restaurant thats opening in our neighbourhood. we pique at the sight of a real estate sign advertising the potential for a fresh new look, taste, or class of thing to come. when the sign comes down, we know someones taken the bait and as the construction inside begins, we scour the window to find a sliver uncovered so we may peek inside for the insiders view. finally, when it opens we talk about it to our friends, if we are bold we check it out before the reviews, if not then after and then the mystique turns into whether itll last or not.
well, there are some places in our neighbourhoods that have conquered those hurdles like a president conquers a racial divide, like our ingenuity conquers great depressions, like love conquers all, i suppose.
one of those places, in my neighbourhood, is called The Collegiate Lunch. unassuming, it marks its territory with a simple white and blue sign. Perhaps the most telling mark of its age is its choice of the word "collegiate". have you ever heard anyone use that word before?
though ive passed by the "collegiate" many a time, i have only gone as far as a peak inside with hands cupped around my eyes and forehead stuck to the glass. but today, a day after a night of drinking, a day that came equipped with a mild yet uncomfortable headache, a day that when i shouldnt be talking to anyone, was a PERFECT day to crack this bottle open, as it were.
so inside i went, sat at the first table, a booth and was greeted immediately by Minnie. Minnie is the owner of this place (perhaps with her husband, not sure). i only know her name because i went for a massage afterwards and my therapist told me her name. that fact seemed to become glaringly obvious when i remembered that the back wall of the diner behind the bar is filled with Minnie Mouses of different sizes and colours.
the fare they have is standard diner, but it is the feeling and company thats shared that makes this place a nice little greasy spoon. I ordered their banquet burger with fries converted into the classic poutine. a perfect meal for the hungover inside all of us.
with nothing to do while i was waiting i felt at ease walking up to another patron to ask for the crossword puzzle in the paper if she wasnt interested. she obliged, and a woman sitting at another table directed me to the remainder of the paper which was sitting just by the bar. as i left, i took the puzzle with me, but gave the rest to another lonesome soldier who was sitting in the opposite booth from me, enjoying his classic meal.
and so once again, this little lunchbox endures as a place of regulars, regular good food, regular prices and a collegial warmth and serves as a lesson that a little kindness and care goes a long way.
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