A few weeks ago (January 2, 2017), I insulted the great State of Connecticut because it has so few diners. Then from the depths of memory this story surfaced…
Years ago I was on my way to Connecticut for a reunion of my high school class, accompanied by my husband and my high school BF Marian, who settled in New Jersey like me. We crossed into Connecticut, got on Route 84 and decided it was time for dinner. There’s not much between Danbury and Waterbury. We settled, by default, on the Blue Colony Diner, figuring a diner would have something for everyone. And it did – no problem accommodating the vegetarian in the group.
We knew absolutely nothing about the area, but our waitress, who had the appearance of a diner veteran, warned us that Friday night in Newton was high school football night, and pretty much the whole town was going to show up at the diner when the game ended. Okay.
During our meal, the waitress made a point of asking us to order coffee and dessert promptly. “I’m going to be busy!” People started to come in – recognizable types – a table full of jocks, parents, couples, single sex clusters… We thought things were getting busy, but suddenly the dam broke. Our waitress slapped down the check and yelled “Run for your lives!!” We fled, laughing, and gazed in astonishment at the traffic jam in the parking lot. So we got a good meal, and more fun than we expected. But honestly, I’ve only EVER seen one other diner in Connecticut, and it was pretty weird.