Why Aren’t We Talking About Diners?

There are many things that separate us from our global north European counterparts, and most of them bad. Lack of universal healthcare and social support, lack of human rights for LGBTQ people and women, rising inflation and low wages, and lack of third spaces. I could go on. But nothing, nothing, nothing is quite like the quintessentially American third space that is the 24-hour diner. The European mind cannot comprehend something that is open 24/7/365. They value their workforce too much to put them through that, at least I think. But where else are you going to go for comfort food after a night at the club? A place where you can sit down, get crappy service (or the best service), and spend hours shooting the shit over a chicken fried steak or waffle. Where else is the coffee cheap, has infinite refills, and tastes horrible, but you love it anyways? Where else can you get that smell, or those booths? Chains like iHop and Denny’s try to replicate it, and they do an alright job, but nothing beats the mom-and-pop joint. But these places are dying, much like dive bars, park benches, streetcorners, libraries, and other third spaces. They’re a place of both community and solitude. Quiet and noise. A diner isn’t exactly a place to meet new people in the same way a bar is, but it is built for friends. Or a cup of coffee after a hard day’s work in solitude. So if they are so great, why are they dying?

Perhaps it is the rising cost of operating a small business. I have friends who are small business owners or work for small businesses. Rising rent costs, supply shortages or cost of supplies, slow customer stream, and competing with flashy new chains or places with Instagrammable goods are some of the primary concerns I have seen. The value of the Instagram place does not correlate with the value of a third space. Superficiality has become king. No one is happy with it, but we are in its raptures nonetheless. And we have fewer and fewer places to make friends, but we don’t get out and try. We are too online; too shy. I guess now is as good a time as any to talk about another problem with third spaces.

People are afraid to be alone. Sure, loneliness sucks. We felt it during the pandemic, and it wrecked us. But now the pandemic is over, and we don’t know how to exist alone. No one goes out and does anything without a friend or significant other in tow. Sure, it’s great to be in community and be with people you know. But what if you don’t have friends readily available? What if you’re single? Sometimes, people simply hole up in their homes, mourning the loss of third spaces and wishing their life was like a Friends episode. Or wishing they could find their soulmate. Longing. Grieving. Well, I hate to break it to you, but life is outside. We mourn third spaces, but there still are third spaces. We might have to look a little harder or drive a little farther, but they are there. We may not have a built-in friend group, but there is a built-in microcosm of people at that little independent bookshop or that diner who keep it alive and going. They could be family. We may not have a soulmate, but, news flash– your soulmate is at the bar. Your soulmate is at the diner. Your soulmate is reading a book at the book shop. The person you want is already out looking for you. And you’re at home scrolling TikTok. If we go to places alone, we open ourselves up to new people and experiences that would otherwise be closed to us if we went to a group. I have had people scoff at me and insult me for saying that. “I would never go alone to a bar or let my daughter do that,” said one. And yes, there are creeps. Yes, there are bad experiences. But to close ourselves off and shelter ourselves away out of fear is to close ourselves off to all the love the world has to offer. Because no, the love has not run out quite yet. 

My sister has a pipe dream of meeting a hot former marine who works at a diner. So tonight, we are going to a diner. Maybe there’s not a hot marine there, but what if there’s someone else? We would never know if we never went. And sure, a pipe dream is just that. But some pipe dreams come true, or morph into something real that is even better. I’m a fan of the pipe dream. I’m a fan of hoping. And I am confident we will have a good time looking out for our soulmates over a crummy cup of coffee and some waffles in one of the few third spaces left in my home of Dallas. Maybe it will become a tradition. We could mourn and wallow and stay home with movies until the end of our days. Or we could be citizens of the world. 

I consider myself a student of third spaces at this point, because it is just an extension of the belonging I study so closely around the world. There is so much more to study and experience. I am returning to Europe in February– spend part of my winter and my birthday with the people of Zagreb, Croatia. Find the live music, the third spaces, and snow. I made a choice to postpone Argentina– something in me told me I needed this more. I don’t know what life has for me there, but something is calling to me. I am beginning to wonder if some things happen for a reason. That, or I am enjoying creating one for myself.

For more on third spaces and belonging, you can read some of my work in the underground live music industry at the Dallas Observer. Or for more pieces like this, browse the blog. But rather than read my words, which I have worked hard on, I would encourage you to open the front door. Walk outside, smell the air. Find a vacant bench to sit on. Who knows? Maybe you’ll find the one.