My recent breakup the first week of June wasn’t one I wanted or expected, but it was one I had to initiate anyway.

My wife and I were speeding through the hills of southern Vermont when I proposed a special date night.

Diners are places of unreality where I can get my food and not worry about being stared at or made fun of.

When I think of what the diner experience is in South Florida, I think of Flanigan’s.

This is about a high school job.

Back in those days, I thought drinking was the most interesting thing about me.

If Staten Island has anything, it’s an abundance of delicious diners, and so many have left their mark on my heart.

For many of us, Standee’s was one of the first public spaces where we could openly and comfortably share our most authentic gender expression.

You can’t be gay in 1999. But I’m not, so that’s just fine.

I never got used to the cold, North Country weather.

This is what it means to be from New Jersey. The roughness around the edges isn’t hidden away or sugar-coated.

Welcome to Diner Week, a 12-part series of essays by Autostraddle writers and editors set in diners.