Okay, I don't remember the particulars because I have the brain of a sluggish sixty-six year old, but the diner was put on a flatbed and moved across country to Oakley UT, home of the Oakley Rodeo, which is the only rodeo I've ever been to that didn't bore me into catatonia. It's a real rodeo, not one of those flashy, sequined affairs with bustier-wearing cowgirls. When I attended the Oakley Rodeo, a man was chased by a bull, and while he was scrambling up the chain-link fence, the bull gored him and broke his leg. Now THAT's entertainment.
Back to the diner: way cool as only things from 1939 can be. I had a BLT with avocado on wholewheat and a glass of milk. Tom had the Smith-Morehouse burger. Diner food. The food wasn't really the point. It was the drive up the canyon, green as Switzerland, the yellow daisies and Queen Anne's Lace, and Jordanelle and Rockport filled to the brim. It was a tiny vacation. We oohed and aahed our way up and back. It rained.
Tom and I decided to date other people and not just each other. This made us laugh for fifteen minutes.
We drove into Salt Lake to Tulie Bakery on 7th South just west of 9th east where we bought a brownie to share, a brownie made of real butter, a brownie worth a triple-bypass. Thanks for the tip, Erica.
Ann, I know I'm plagiarizing your format. It won't be the last time either.