I spent the night at City Diner sober
How drunk are the late-night patrons of our beloved City Diner?
Located in the basement of our LBC, City Diner has provided a safe haven for weekend party-goers by functioning as an effective meeting place and cure for the munchies. The diner’s convenient campus location allows students to stumble straight from the bars and into the booths, making for an interesting mixture of booze and pancakes.
But would the City experience be just as memorable – or forgetful – without the aid of alcohol?
In the name of investigative journalism, I sacrificed my Saturday night to find out. I set up camp in a booth with a view and I waited for the madness.
10 PM: My night began surrounded by those returning from the night’s parades in the French Quarter. Everyone seemed to be covered in beads and, disappointingly, stone cold sober. When I asked one parade attendee if she planned to go back out, she informed me that she was too exhausted from the festivities to “turn up” tonight.
I was beginning to lose faith when I met an interesting man who I have dubbed Shirtless Joe, who communicated with dance better than most liberal arts students ever will be able to with words. Needless to say, my spirits were once again lifted.
Shirtless Joe
After that most amazing encounter, my sober experiment became everything I wanted and more.
10.42 PM: Shirtless Joe is informed by management he must put on a shirt or leave. Amazingly, he bargains with a man in line behind him to give him the shirt off his back. Is there anything this man can’t do?
10.57 PM: I am joined in my booth by two fine, drunk gentlemen named Oliver and Jonah and their sober caretaker, Jenna. While I give them much credit for their spirited attempt at recounting their nightly activities, I am only able to make out the words “fun” and “I’m gone”. (This is, coincidentally, the same way I have heard countless others describe their experiences at Tulane.)
10.59 PM: Oliver is not very happy when he learns I have been taking pictures.
11.24 PM: Shirtless Joe is once again shirtless, returning his borrowed flannel to it’s rightful owner before disappearing into the night.
11.58 PM: The line reaches a total standstill for 10 minutes as the kitchen is overwhelmed for the first time tonight.
12.03 AM: A short-lived but spirited chant of “Paul can’t hang!” rings through the establishment. Paul cowers in embarrassment.
12.09 AM: A spirited young woman in a flapper dress breaks out an impressive Irish jig to the theme song of NBC’s hit television show, “Rizzoli and Isles,” which is playing on the television above her.
12.51 AM: My booth is swarmed by old friends and new friends eager to use this article to express themselves, forcing me to move to a table to accommodate us all. Two freshmen in particular, Phoebe and Tatum, felt what they needed to say was of dire importance.
Me: “How was your night?”
Phoebe: “I hate boys named Matt, and people that are really rude.”
Me: “And you, Tatum?”
Tatum: “This is what it’s all about. My number is 95. I got a chicken cheese quesadilla.”
I can’t make this stuff up.
1.02 AM: Oliver returns, realizing he had left City Diner without actually ordering food.
1.10 AM: RAs exist outside of the dorms, ladies and gentlemen. Eliza, a sophomore RA and DSC living in Sharp Hall, had a very responsible night.
Me: “What did you do tonight?”
Eliza: “I went to a sketch comedy act – that’s why I am wearing these animal ears. Now I get a great meal at City Diner. What are you doing?”
Me: “Writing an article for The Tab about the drunk students in City Diner.”
Eliza: “Well, of course I didn’t drink. I’m underage. Alcohol is bad.”
Kevin, an RA also from Sharp Hall, refused to comment on his night. However, he could not stop his friend from exclaiming, “We sat up on a roof!”
Loyola students often attempt to claim City Diner as their own
Like all great things, the late night drunk rush must come to an end. I had a quick chat with diner manager Marvin about this particular night, during which he said, “this was a special kind of night”.
From 10 PM to 1:15 AM, the kitchen did not slow down. Students coming from parades and date parties appeared in costumes of all kinds, from Superwoman to R2-D2 and 1920’s flappers to 1980’s gym rats.
I quietly exited City Diner to a far from perfect rendition of Adele’s “Hello” on piano being played by a Loyola freshman, as I thought about how students would likely collapse on the sidewalk without a place like City Diner.