April
2002
From
the Editor: Sitting
at the counter eating lunch
I remember a disproportionate number of the times in my life that
I have eaten out alone. Among those experiences, the most memorable
is probably the $46 soup and tuna steak dinner I had in Boston,
but a cold, lonely afternoon stop in an IHOP in Ardmore, Pa.,
during college also sticks in my mind. I only had classes two
days a week that particular semester, so I had a lot of time to
myself.
I sat in Café Olé on South Warren Street the other
day, waiting to meet with Jamie Griswold, publisher of the Trenton
Downtowner (and owner of Café Olé). It was lunchtime
and damp and the café was hopping. It was crowded enough
that I faced the prospect of waiting for a table. Even though
I know the owner! (Just kidding.) (Not really.) (No, I am.) (Or
am I?)
Manager Gigi Dallaire suggested I give the front counter a try.
Sure enough, I found the middle of the three seats open, so I
sat down. I read the Trentonian, munched on my buffalo chicken
wrap, sipped coffee and watched the people stream in.
What always strikes me about eating alone is how you feel out
of place. Even if you know every bartender or every deli-meister
in your favorite hang-out, there's still something weird about
sitting by yourself, reading the newspaper with nothing to do,
really, except finish your meal.
But I have to say, on that particular afternoon, Café Olé
struck me as a warm place to be. It gave me a sense of community
that I don't usually get commuting to the bagel shop in the suburb
where I live.
One of the things I usually don't like about places where a "regular"
crowd hangs out is that if you aren't a regular, you know it every
moment of your visit. But around Trenton, that never seems to
be the case. You can sit in Checkers across from friends or perfect
strangers, or friends and perfect strangers, and feel at ease.
Jamie and I sat in the Tremont House a month ago for lunch and
as it turned out, we were seated next to one of the owners, who
chatted with us like old friends.
Trenton
is a community. Maybe it's lost its sense of that somewhat as
its demographics have diversified. But it's high time for us to
recognize that a re-emulsification has taken place. Trenton's
new identity is as a multicultural center where everyone is welcome.
When I was joined at the counter by Jamie and by Mark Feffer of
Tramp Steamer Media, I was among friends suddenly. But then again,
I had been among friends the whole time. Sound cornball? Oh yeah.
But let's not let a little corniness get in the way of a good
story.
Take a look around. Especially those of you who are hardened in
your Trenton cynicism. The truth is, if you don't feel like you're
a part of this community, it's not because the community wouldn't
accept you as a member.
-Joe
Emanski
