In Sean’s famous post “What is Metroblogging, and where the hell is my umbrella?”, which I recommend that everyone read, one commenter quoted a Metblogger from Karachi as writing “You know karachi is a small place when two metblog authors meet up at the traffic light.” I guess Metblogging has made Los Angeles a small place too, because yesterday, I had such a traffic light moment inside a diner right here in L.A.
I took someone to lunch yesterday near her neighborhood of Fox Hills, and told her to suggest the place. We ended up going to Dinah’s Family Restaurant on the corner of Sepulveda and Centinela. Since I’m a fan of retro eateries, Dinah’s has been on my list. We walked inside, and the main dining room seemed very busy, so I asked to be seated in the somewhat smaller back room. It turned out that the back room was pretty noisy too. It was full of kids. And there was one big “party” table with a bunch of balloons in the center. We walked by the party table, and there, sitting at one end, was a familiar-looking guy with dark hair, a beard, a black cape, and a Batman sticker on his chest. I thought maybe he was the entertainment for a birthday party at his table.
Then I realized that the bearded guy was none other than fellow Los Angeles Metblogger Steve of the Mark and Steve show. This was real kismet, since Steve and I had not yet met in person. He said that he was there with co-workers to help one of the co-workers celebrate his upcoming fatherhood. Great to meet you, Steve! It’s meetings like these that remind me that bloggers are a community, and that is especially true among Metblogging communities such as Los Angeles.
Now before I get all misty-eyed, I should include a mini-review of Dinah’s. Two words: not impressed. I had fried chicken and a pancake (I know, odd combo outside the world of Roscoe’s patrons, but I wanted some protein with my carbs). The chicken, for which Dinah’s is apparently famous, was bland. The pancake was overcooked and stiff, as if it had been sitting in a giant stack in the kitchen for many minutes before being put on my plate, which it probably was. My lunch partner said that it looked just like a McDonald’s pancake, and she was exactly right. Apparently, someone wasn’t in the kitchen with Dinah. Or, Dinah, you really did blow.
However, it was worth it to go there just for the company.