I'm sitting in a busy Manhattan Diner not far from Time Square. Nothing has been updated since the sixties. I wait for quite some time as the waiter ignores me and I finally flag him down. "Excuse me. I'd like to order please."
"Alright...what do you want." he says as if it's excruciating. He's so grumpy it's funny.
I order a latte and stare out the giant window facing the street. The sound of the subway is muffled in the distance, buried beneath the sounds of cars honking and and ambulances blaring and people talking. Pedestrians fly by the window a dozen at a time.
I look across the street to find a high-rise building under construction. Two workers have a white 5 gallon bucket with a rope tied to it. They fill the bucket with 2X4s, only four at a time, before hoisting it up several floors. Over and over again. I smile at the silliness of the scene, enjoying the people watching and commotion outside.
Most of the waiters here are older, in their sixties or so. Mine is big and tall guy with giant thick glasses. His eyes appear overly large and cartoonish behind the lenses. After quite some time, he brings me my latte. It's in a basic, old tan coffee mug and is billowing with a marshmallow-like foam, seeping over the sides. I take a sip. Hmmmm. Nice and burnt, like I got the coffee that's been sitting at the bottom of the pot for a couple of days, definitely not espresso lol.
I order a waffle and the waiter replies in a deep New York accent accompanied by a cold straight face, "OK. WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS" and walks away, to which I smile at the possibilities. Oh no. lol.
I sip the burnt coffee (officially the worst cup of coffee I have ever had) happily enjoying the authenticity of this experience.