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Aug. 31st, 2006 12:53 pmO'Rourke's burned down.
I only went there a couple of times while I was actually a student at Wesleyan. The first time I went, it was about 5am, after a long night of hanging out and gaming with friends. I had blueberry pancackes. I remember bringing my parents one time when they were up - they really liked the place. And once, when my Dad was driving me back to school after a visit home, we made it into the diner just before they closed, and were still fed.
After graduation, I got a job at Wesleyan and moved out of my parent's place and back to Middletown. About five months later, I started dating Other Kenjari and we soon made a habit of going to O'Rourke's for breakfast every weekend - my apartment was only a few blocks away from the diner. And thus we ended up there just about every Saturday and Sunday morning for two years. We were regulars - the waitstaff knew us and would quite often have our customary drinks (a tea and a birch beer) on the table before our butts had settled into our seats. The food was delicious, and the never-ending parade of creative specials meant there was always something new to try. I sometimes bought loaves of their wonderful pound cakes to bring along when I visited my family.
When we moved to Boston, Other Kenjari and I had one last brunch at O'Rourke's before driving the U-Haul north. Brian O'Rourke, on hearing that we were moving, wouldn't let us pay for our meals.
But, of course, that wasn't the last brunch. Other Kenjari and I came back regularly for Quest games and other events. And we always managed to have at least one meal at O'Rourke's while we were in town. The week of our wedding, we made a point of having lunch there after getting our marriage license, since eating there was such a large part of our early days as a couple. Whenever we went to the diner, Brian O'Rourke, and even some of the waitstaff, often remembered us and seemed genuinely pleased to see us.
Damn.
I only went there a couple of times while I was actually a student at Wesleyan. The first time I went, it was about 5am, after a long night of hanging out and gaming with friends. I had blueberry pancackes. I remember bringing my parents one time when they were up - they really liked the place. And once, when my Dad was driving me back to school after a visit home, we made it into the diner just before they closed, and were still fed.
After graduation, I got a job at Wesleyan and moved out of my parent's place and back to Middletown. About five months later, I started dating Other Kenjari and we soon made a habit of going to O'Rourke's for breakfast every weekend - my apartment was only a few blocks away from the diner. And thus we ended up there just about every Saturday and Sunday morning for two years. We were regulars - the waitstaff knew us and would quite often have our customary drinks (a tea and a birch beer) on the table before our butts had settled into our seats. The food was delicious, and the never-ending parade of creative specials meant there was always something new to try. I sometimes bought loaves of their wonderful pound cakes to bring along when I visited my family.
When we moved to Boston, Other Kenjari and I had one last brunch at O'Rourke's before driving the U-Haul north. Brian O'Rourke, on hearing that we were moving, wouldn't let us pay for our meals.
But, of course, that wasn't the last brunch. Other Kenjari and I came back regularly for Quest games and other events. And we always managed to have at least one meal at O'Rourke's while we were in town. The week of our wedding, we made a point of having lunch there after getting our marriage license, since eating there was such a large part of our early days as a couple. Whenever we went to the diner, Brian O'Rourke, and even some of the waitstaff, often remembered us and seemed genuinely pleased to see us.
Damn.
