tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38597512011-04-21T13:23:15.670-07:00Life and Times of a Patron of the King's Chef dinerKimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.comBlogger181100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-1146630370141590442006-05-02T21:01:00.000-07:002006-06-08T00:40:20.423-07:00

I really miss the diner. Not necessarily the diner as it is now, but the diner as I remember it--Gary or Dave at the grill, Dread doing dishes, warm and cozy on a cold winter day when it felt like an oasis from the storm. Gary had a lot of my time (and a lot of my money). But I learned a lot in the diner, about people, about accepting people as they are and looking beneath the surface. The diner

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-935413142003-04-30T10:07:00.000-07:002003-04-30T10:47:08.000-07:00

Couple of things on my mind. One. Never go to the diner on Wednesday. Whack The Waitress Wednesday is no joke, and it’s not a sight I ever want to see again. Ick. Two. Just got an email newsletter telling me how to “stay productive in down time”. So that I can continue to work and “be productive” even when I am out of the office, out of cell range and away from the internet. Goody. Can

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-861814022002-12-17T12:19:00.000-08:002002-12-17T12:19:05.370-08:00

Yesterday I squeezed into the last open seat, between a cute, slim man to my left and an older graying gentleman to my right. DUI was at the far end of the counter with two of her friends Trish the Dish and Heather. Slim’s friend, #87, was initiating him properly. His manhood being questioned for ordering a half, Slim had relented and ordered the full Grump. (This is the hashed brown, eggs,

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-855586292002-12-05T14:08:00.000-08:002002-12-05T14:08:53.080-08:00

Mark the Reporter walked in as I was finishing my french fries, trying to decide what to eat to lower his cholesterol. Been there. Done that. After ordering a “modified King’s Chef Salad” (also known as a “Queen Salad with meat”), he read the latest issue of Maxim while Dread gave him a hard time. Mark is still catching grief about my “gay” comments. He takes it well. The counter chick is

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-851653122002-11-27T07:49:00.000-08:002002-11-27T07:49:02.146-08:00

House Poor No one said that more than three years after buying the house we would still be living in chaos. We bought a thirty-year-old house that needed "cosmetic work." Well if replacing all the carpet and flooring ($4000+), replacing both bathrooms ($3000, with one to go), the screen door ($200), the garage door ($650), the hot water heater ($200), disposal($50), leaky windows ($2700 so far

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-848917802002-11-21T14:43:00.000-08:002002-11-21T14:43:06.206-08:00

As I haven’t been to the diner in days L, I thought I would let you know what I’ve been up to. Tuesday I had an interview for a second job. After all day in front of a computer, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to do even more computer work after hours, so I applied for a job in retail. I was totally floored that I was hired on the spot. This should be fun, although there was some testing

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-847322942002-11-18T15:59:00.000-08:002002-11-18T15:59:31.976-08:00

Gary is awfully cheerful now that he has three days off in a row. Shortly after I arrive, telling Dave to “surprise me” when he asks what I want to eat, It’s just me, a skinny, non-descript man finishing his meal and a lovely girl with brown upswept hair and beautiful, big, wide eyes and a flawless complexion. “I got a DUI,” she tells Gary. “No.” “Yes.” “Why’d ya do that?” “It was

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-844415832002-11-12T15:35:00.000-08:002002-11-12T15:35:16.073-08:00

A note to Mark: Journalism rule #1: Check your facts. As a matter of fact, the exact quote was: “We think Mark may be gay” Not, “he is gay” or anything like it. I even had the little smiley face symbol there. Okay? Here’s a hint, folks, a lot of what I say is tongue-in-cheek. Not. Completely. Serious. ;-)

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-844412682002-11-12T15:28:00.000-08:002002-11-12T15:28:44.223-08:00

My budget is putting a serious strain on my visits to the diner. I can excuse it when the kids eat all the sandwich fixin’s and when I just can’t bear the thought of microwave corn dogs (did I mention that before?) Anyway, today I wound up back at the diner. Things are changing there, so it’s a rare day that the three amigos are in residence. Today it was Gary manning the grill and counter

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-843853972002-11-11T15:04:00.000-08:002002-11-11T15:12:42.000-08:00

Before I get to today’s post, I must issue an apology to Mark the Reporter. I’M SORRY I SAID YOU WERE GAY. YOU ARE A MAN OF DISCRIMINATION AND TASTE WHO IS NOT SO SHALLOW AS TO DATE A WOMAN MERELY FOR HER LOOKS. I do hope that suffices. I won’t go into the reasons why you turned down the girl, but . . . well, I’m sure you made your mother proud. It’s Veteran’s Day, but while the government

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-841850392002-11-07T11:27:00.000-08:002002-11-07T11:27:01.276-08:00

And the saga continues . . . Driving to work yesterday who did I see pulling out of the diner parking lot? Stalker3!! She is persistent. She has great hair. I think I’ve mentioned that before. (I’m kind of obsessed by great hair lately, as a medical condition is causing my hair to thin rather dramatically. I’m able to hide it pretty well at this point. I hope to stop and then reverse the

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-840196042002-11-04T12:26:00.000-08:002002-11-04T12:26:57.830-08:00

One of the bad things about blogging, is that I am tempted to forget that there is a potential audience out there of millions. So, unlike writing in a journal, I must censor myself, for some of the things I most want to comment on are personal and private to another. And so, if I want to be a decent person (shocking in this day and age, I know) I must forego mentioning some things that just beg

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-836864552002-10-28T15:23:00.000-08:002002-10-28T15:23:28.903-08:00

Just before noon the diner is fairly quiet with only three or four diners at best. The guys are relaxed and happy today as I sweep in. (I never walk in my red leather boots, I sweep or I glide, saunter or sashay on the three and a half inch heels.) The trouble with going early is that the hunger pangs have not coalesced into definable urges. At this point all I know is I want something hot,

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-834779262002-10-24T13:57:00.000-07:002002-10-24T14:01:14.000-07:00

It’s a cold day, overcast and gray, the streets are still wet from drizzle overnight and I forgot my coat. Woke up late, forgot my coat and here I am with the start of an amazing head cold. So, instead of hiking the 4 blocks over to Detz’s Restaurant (a real greasy spoon) with a friend from the office, I dash on over the block and a half to the diner. It’s nearly 1:30 by the time I arrive, so

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-834212412002-10-23T13:16:00.000-07:002002-10-23T13:24:13.000-07:00

Running in after my allergy shot I only had time for a brief meal, which worked for me since I was in the mood for Gary’s fries. It’s been months since I’ve really eaten fries. Yumm! I don’t know what spices he uses, but they are good. As I was entering a tall, leggy beautiful blonde was walking out the door. Beautiful face. Gary says she asked Mark the reporter out but he turned her down.

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-834199282002-10-23T12:48:00.000-07:002002-10-23T12:48:53.683-07:00

This is from 10-22. Forgot to post it. Okay, I promised to tell you about the diner. Well, it’s a little place, seats 13 hip-to-hip, and has been in business at the same location for 50 years. To run a place like this more or less successfully you have to be a bit of a character, ‘cause people come to see you as much or more than they come to eat. That surely was the case with Sam, the

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-833190422002-10-21T15:23:00.000-07:002002-11-11T15:19:01.000-08:00

Nearly full when I arrived today, squeezed in between Mark the reporter and a silent older gentleman. Gary was giving one of the girls a hard time because she hadn’t worn her tube top. My dad would hate this place, with Gary picking fries off customers’ plates, teasing customers in a personal way and the rough talk, but I love it, even when I have no idea what they’re talking about. (Maybe

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3859751.post-830316852002-10-15T14:13:00.000-07:002002-10-15T14:13:39.016-07:00

I hit the diner after 1, so the lunch rush was over and I could have just a soda. (With 13 seats, an inside seat is reserved for eating customers during peak hours.) Gary (the owner) was in top form, relaxed, and fun, teasing the customers, who give as good as they get. “That’s right. I wouldn’t let her get her sticker and candy.” Pretty rough on a little girl, don’t you think? “You mean

Kimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10401848207871769424noreply@blogger.com0