Today we have a post card from - uuh (Let's see... sort of Mediterranean design which is from 1968 or so, and sort of fifties looking... umm) 1968 or something!. It's a kind of diner that wants to be called a lounge, and I'd go there all the time if it were still there and looked like this. Behold, the Paradise Restaurant and Lounge!
Waitresses at diners call you any one of the following without getting funny looks from customers: "sugar, toots, honey, darlin'". This level of familiar discourse is unique among the spectrum of American consumer establishments. For example, a dry cleaner or mechanic (a female one) who addressed me as "sugar" would make me wonder if he/she were hitting on me, and depending on my level of attraction to her, I would just enjoy the attention or take my business elsewhere. A male mechanic / dry cleaner / brain surgeon, etc. would have to be incredibly competent or amazing prices to retain my patronage after calling me "sugar", "toots", or "honey". This probably means I'm a terrible person or something.
Back in a past life, I ate at a diner called Tom's Family Restaurant kind of often. It's still there, in Homewood, IL, see?
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Tom's Diner (as it was not officially called, but everyone called it that), has all the diner earmarks listed above, and the waitresses are all matronly, and address you as they would their own child (honey, darlin', etc. Not sure about "toots", though).
Anyway, this Paradise Restaurant and Lounge looks kind of the same. What makes a "lounge"? What kind of accommodations does a restaurant have to offer to make the leap from "restaurant" to "restaurant and lounge"? A side room with a bar in it? Well, BAM! The Paradise has you covered!
Chekkity check the padded leather bar. Swank, baby! And the paneling is frikkin wood-like! I can hear the Sergio Mendes right now...
So what's there now? Well, it's still a restaurant, and it's still across from a bank, but the bank is a branch of the 2009 Grand Prize winner in the Stupidest Name for Anything Competition: 5/3.
100 South Chop House. Turns out I've actually eaten there! It looks totally different inside now, though. Lots of trendy dark wood and pictures of Hollywood people. They're going for that "Bogart ate here" kind of thing. Meh. If they really want a good tip, they'll call you "honey"
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