Dave's Diner Closes Its Door

Monday my friend Barbara came over to take me to breakfast, but when we got to Dave’s Diner, a sign on the door announced that the restaurant is closed.

Thus ends an era.

Ginny and I have been going to Dave’s a couple of times a week for the past 15 years, since back when it was called DeLoache’s. Our family has celebrated birthday parties there, Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, and a party when Ginny’s brother and his wife adopted two orphan kids.

Once, our kids even bought me a Dave’s Diner tee shirt:

Last night at devotions Ginny and I prayed for the staff of Dave’s—Ed and Chris and Nicole, and Billy, and Robin and Jesse and Big Will; and, from the old days, Alex, Homer and Mark—people are put out of work by the restaurant’s closing. They have been like extended family to us and we grieve for their loss.

We also prayed for customers we know by sight but not by name: the battle-wounded marine, Chuck, One-eyed Sally, the librarian, the clergy couple, the homosexual couples, the feeble old lady, and so many others for whom Dave’s was a fixture in their lives.

Also last night I searched my old diaries to see references to Dave’s and remember all the happy times we’ve had there—one diary posting I found was from ten years ago.

Surprise! Back in ’99 I was in a slump of depression and I was concerned about how God guides us… A lot of this old post could have been written yesterday!

I’m going to repeat it here:

Caution: the following contains profanity, adult, and religious content; if you are offended by such things, you may want to skip this posting:

Wednesday, April 14, 1999:

This morning I biked to the Murray Hill Library to return books. The building had not opened yet and books overflowed the external book drop.

A train across the tracks had delayed me before I got to the library and I puzzled over why I appeared to be held in the area. The thought of leaving my books on top of the book drop tempted me, but a large number of high school students clustered around the library waiting for a school bus to show up and since one of my books was the latest Stephen King, I felt reluctant to leave it in plain sight.

I rode down the street to see if anymore goodies had been put out from the closed Greyhound Bus Depot but the fence was locked and the pile of trash/treasures out of reach. Nothing for it but to hang around till the library opened; so I decided to eat breakfast at DeLoache's (now renamed Dave’s Diner) — where something odd happened.

I had almost finished my eggs, sausage and grits when a trio came in, two guys and a girl. They sat near my table and their conversation grew loud enough to overhear. One guy appeared to be a bystander but the other spoke cruelly to the woman. At one point he said, "Just because I fuck you doesn't mean you can hang around my apartment while I'm at work".

He threw some money on the table to pay for the meal and he and the other guy stomped out.

The woman sat there smoking cigarettes and looking miserable.

She sported enormous tits unencumbered by a bra. She was quite pretty but with an aura of roughness. A woman who has been around... but she was obviously very unhappy.

None of my business...

Now I don't readily speak to strangers. I went to the cashier and paid my bill and returned to my table for my library books. I felt a compulsion to speak to the young woman. I sat back down sipping coffee and thinking of reasons I should leave; but the nagging feeling that I should talk to her about Christ persisted. Given my current low spiritual state, I'm in no way qualified to speak with anybody about eternal matters.

Besides, I have things to do, plans for the morning. Her boyfriend may return. She might think I'm hitting on her. I'm no preacher. I have nothing to say. I'm empty. Depressed...

"Miss, are you OK? You look so unhappy over here. May I sit with you for a minute?" I said.

She nodded, on the verge of tears.

" What's the problem?" I asked.

"The problem is that I am a whore," she said.

I said, "Whore is not what you are. It is something you do. And you can change that anytime you want to".

She explained that she sold pussy to buy drugs for herself and this guy she'd been with. He is not exactly a full time pimp but he does take her money and beat her, and this has been their off and on relationship for a year of so. She has done exotic dancing and whoring on the side but she’s stopped dancing and just whores now, picking up guys on street corners. She's sick of herself and some of the things she’s done. For instance, recently some guy at the beach had her push the spike heel of her high heel shoe up his ass while she sucked him off. He later pissed on her breasts as she masturbated.

Glamorous life, no?

She told me that she suffers from chronic depression (no wonder), and that she is bi-polar as well as manic-depressive. She also takes crack cocaine and drinks to excess.

"My life is in a deep, dark hole and there's no way out," she said. "I want to change but I can't. I just stay in this hole".

"Good," I said.

That got her attention.

"Jesus Christ knows all about holes. He was tortured to death for our sins and they put Him in a grave, the deepest, darkest hole there is. But because He is the Prince of Life, He came out of that hole. He knows what it's like. He knows where you are, and He cares about what happens to you".

I again emphasized that whore is what she does, not what she is. "You are a woman created in the very image of God Almighty. He treasures you. He cares about how other people have treated you and about how you have treated yourself. He values you. He actually loves you no matter what.

"If you ever decide to change what you are doing, He will help you. And there are other people who will help too."

I wrote down phone numbers for Liberty Center for Women, Hubbard House, WSCO, and Laurel (a Christian counselor I know). "If you want to go on doing what you have been doing, you can. No one is going to stop you. If you ever decide you are sick enough of the life you are leading and really want to change, then Jesus will help you. It will be tough but it is possible. You don't have to keep on doing what you are doing and feeling the way you are feeling. The ball is in your court."

"Mister," she said, "I think God sent you here this morning."

Her name is Cindy.

When I got home, I called Hazel. "Oh John, I think God had you call me this morning," she said. She is upset about Medicare problems and prescriptions.

Later, I called K.K at church. "The Lord must have had you call," he said, "I've been thinking of calling you all morning".

Thus three times today it appears that God's hand has been directing my activities and using me... yet I am not conscious of being any more devout or spiritual than at any other time recently. I still feel empty, dried up and useless... Perhaps these three contacts have been sent from Heaven to encourage me not to give up altogether. The three incidents were not for the benefit of the other people involved, but for me because I am so low and discouraged and depressed.