“You’ve been here two years and you haven’t eaten there yet?”

How could I answer? I’m a stay-at-home art director who works off-site for ESPN. I can easily take an hour lunch at the restaurant up the block: I just haven’t felt motivated to.

While driving, one witnesses Minivan Caravans canvassing miles of rural-dential property wending their way to the small Family Diner. Roving carloads pull quickly into the seemingly small parking lot to deliver loads of smiling patrons before flipping back to the rear section. It’s almost as if some evil scientist figured out how to make a magnet built to attract kids, couples, Mennonites, and bikers alike.

My conversation buddy looked like an old fisherman as he retold stories of the prodigious portions of the Family Restaurant. The hours that would sail past as they leaned back and had a good time. The price that made the portions even more appealing.

My wife and I, in contradistinction, are the type of people that appreciate a night at a restaurant that isn’t a chain, an afternoon in a museum, or spending some quality time with Garrison Keilor’s Prairie Home Companion. Our CD collection is littered with rock, classical music and musicals. My children take after their father: they sing show tunes for fun.

So my wife and I, after a few minutes of weighing the pros and cons of it all, decided to head out to the Diner.

So when we walked into the cafeteria environment, waited by the dirty table to get wiped down and noted what folk were eating (hot dogs, a bowl of Something, more hot dogs) we felt a bit of a letdown. Especially when we’ve come from a town where going to a Diner meant everything on the menu was customizable.

“I’d like the combo cheeseburger, fries and soda meal but can it be a Bacon Cheeseburger? I know it’ll be extra.”

“We can’t do that. Sorry.”

“You can’t put bacon on it?”

“Yeah, sorry: the combos are set.”

“Ah.”

“Would you like anything on that? Lettuce, Tomato?”

“I’d like bacon….” I noted her expression “…but barring that I’ll take lettuce.”

I just wish I pulled a scoboco and had remembered to bring my camera.