It's a classic quaint place with chrome stools, sweaty fry cook and classic grumpy old lady waitress that's been here since the invention of ketchup. We sat at the back corner table smiling and enjoying the kitsch when I noticed we were all crying. A very Twilight Zone moment. Looking around the diner I noticed no one else had any of our symptoms. They could have cared less. They must have gotten the onion vaccine in 50's that was mandatory by all high schools. Anyways, while trying to finish our meal through our tears, we decided the burgers were only average. Plus, sad to say, the shake machine was broke. So, no malt for me. The pie was good, nothing great. So I give respect to keeping it real , but if you have to wear an astronaut suit to eat there, I say "Houston we have a problem."
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