Modern Noir at an American Diner

I should have ordered something different. If you have the single booth in the time-frayed decor of a classic American diner and you’re not the hardboiled PI-type in Philip Marlowe mode having bourbon and coffee, perhaps you should go the sweet route a la root beer float or milk shake. A plain root beer is classic but also sad. It falls far short of bourbon’s effects as a temporary mood enhancer, and the bite it does carry is not enough to ease the bitterness of a lonely booth. A float might offer sweetness as comfort where the root beer alone is weaker than the company a bottle of beer or a shot of bourbon can sometimes pretend to be. Or real company for that matter.

Here I was, reenacting Hopper’s Nighthawks, but with harsher lighting and a toy train. The plan was simply to enjoy a free screening of Casablanca at the —- —- Diner on a Saturday evening. As luck would have it though, the movie area was already full up, and since I was hungry and unwilling to wait by the cash register for the chance at an available seat, I instead chose the single booth and dinner.