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Richmond diner offers more than just a good burger By
Jasmine Erickson RICHMOND-- I order a cheeseburger because I think that's how you can judge a place. It's some time between early and mid afternoon on a beautiful October day at L.D.'s Diner in Richmond. An odd time to coming in for a burger, I suppose, and it shows. One couple sits in one of the booths, and one woman stands behind the counter. I wander around a bit before settling down at the counter. There are booths all along the wood-paneled walls of the relatively small front room. Each booth has high-backed, padded benches upholstered in well-worn orange vinyl, and next to every napkin dispenser is a glass vase holding a few fake daffodils and a small American flag. Orange soda-shop-style stools skirt the counter, which, of course, is also orange. The edges are gray from being rubbed by countless elbows and bellies. Even spots on the surface directly in front of certain stools are dull and gray as a tangible memoir to the many beers and lemonades and plates of fries that have slid over those spots. The more spacious but windowless back room serves as home to tables and chairs and two coin-operated pool tables. The room is lit entirely by stained-glass fixtures advertising assorted beer companies hanging over the pool tables and lining the walls. Back at the counter, waiting for Cathy (the waitress/cook/table buser/cashier on call) to finish my burger, I realize just how much I feel like I'm sitting in somebody's kitchen. Refrigerator, grill, sinks, open baking soda boxes and coffee cans are all in plain sight. Country music is playing on the radio. I don't normally like country music, but I like it here. Cathy slides the burger in front of me, and the couple from the booth pays and leaves. No one else is coming in. Cathy sits down at the counter sipping a Coke. It's been a long day, I can tell. I ask her if business picks up at night. "Depends what's on TV, she says. I laugh. No, really. If there is a pattern to L.D.'s business, Cathy would know. Sixteen years ago her car broke down and she couldn't get from her home in Richmond to her job in Logan. I saw a help wanted sign in the window, so I walked right in, " she says. "I've been here ever since. The only difference is I don't live here anymore and my car works. I don't know why I'm still here. Sometimes I think I'm getting too old for this. Two women come in through the back. They greet Cathy warmly as they pull on their aprons and ask her how she's doing. "Tired, " she says. One of them refills my glass. Suddenly an elderly couple bursts into the restaurant through the front door behind me. "We've got a baby! " the woman announces loudly. The three employees laugh and congratulate the couple on the birth of their new grandbaby. Husband and wife take their seats at the counter and order beers to celebrate. The five of them speak in smiling voices about the circumstances of the birth and the current conditions of child and mother. "Justin put his hand up against that baby and it was almost the same size!" the new grandmother says. "My gosh," one of the employees breathes. Cathy stands up and removes her apron and announces that she's headed home. I call my thanks after her as she walks out. She gives me a wave of the hand and says, "You're welcome. " The cheeseburger isn't the best cheeseburger I've ever had, but glancing down at the old man's beer bottle sitting squarely on one of the worn spots on the counter, I get the sense that it's not the cheeseburgers people come in here for.
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