Night Pigeons

by The Lingernots

Something that you can’t generally find in most parts of the world, is a diner. Every place in the world has its own version, pubs, cafe’s, but the American diner is a beast of a different coat.

I’m thinking of the homey greasy spoon where you drink coffee at four am in the middle of an endless night of driving.Where girls sometimes have blurry smiles and mascara under their eyes, where punk rockers gulp down pancakes and syrup after slam dancing at shows and cops quietly eat steak and eggs while looking out the window.. The twenty four hour diner is one of those treasures left mostly unchanged by the rest of the world, its where all sorts of people can be seen eating the same food at the same time..

 The beginning of my nightlife generally ended up at a diner, if only because the bliss of being out late was too good to ruin by going home before sunrise… The best place to be when you don’t want to be at home and you don’t want to talk to anyone, without sitting in a park and getting raped because it’s 3am, is a diner. Looking for inspirations? The most ordinary people are actually the strangest creatures when you really watch.

Anyway, the other night was one of those restless nights where I found myself sitting under a shattered mirror portrait of Neil Young and Janis Joplin, drinking one cup of bitter coffee after another, as Brandon wrestled with going for a steak, or the T-rex omelette. The girl at the table next to us had plates in front of her and the exasperated face of someone waiting for everyone to get back to the table to eat, and then I realized her omelette is untouched because she hasn’t finished her tall stack of  pancakes, yet soon, she does, eyes cast down and licking syrup off cherry red nails, and she pulls the giant plate of eggs in front of her and starts tearing at it, her face becoming more morose with every bite. I could HEAR her mind telling her to stop, but you know how it is when your hands just keep bringing another bite and you find yourself silently chewing anyway.. matter over mind..

So she ate, and ate, and scrolled through her phone looking uncomfortable, as I finished the sharp little pieces of tortilla chips at the bottom of the basket, wondering if the coffee would even keep me up.. I watched the rest of the room all try to hold themselves together with syrupy embraces and fluffy eggs and melting pools of ice-cream in the very last hours of a wednesday night.. Feasts of all kinds, drunk feasts, sweet tooth feasts, giddy feasts and shame feasts..