#washingtonsquarediner

Name: Washington Square Diner, 150 West 4th Street  Established: Late ‘60s/early ‘70s  Status: Open! Kid’s meal: Pasta with marinara sauce, and a black and white shake Mom’s meal: Chicken sandwich smothered in mushrooms, bacon and cheddar cheese, and an ironic Diet Coke   When I started spending the bulk of my time downtown as a teen in the mid-’80s, the Washington Square Diner was my orienting landmark. I would get off the 1 subway at Christopher Street and attempt to wander east, unsure of how to navigate the twisty, non-grid streets. The one place I always used to give me a sense of geography? This iconic diner, with its unmistakable neon sign which glowed even in the dead of night (it’s open 24 hours!).  My personal history with the diner is long. As a wannabe hanger-on with the 8th Street Playhouse’s Rocky Horror Picture Show gang, I frequented the long-gone Tiffany Diner after the midnight movie, but somehow, as my focus turned from Sweet Transvestites to skins, skas and punks, the Washington Square Diner became my go-to spot. After I got my first-ever paycheck at the Macdougal Street outpost of Reminiscence, I remember inviting everyone who happened to be sitting in Washington Square Park to dinner there, my treat. (That ended about as well as you’d expect, but I did make a lot of new friends that night!) And as a supervisor at the Lincoln Center Tower Records (in the classical department!), I would take the 1 down to the diner whenever I worked a closing shift so I could have apple pie à la mode (warmed in a microwave, of course).   Whenever I find myself hungry in the area, I always eat here. Fancy it’s not, but the minute I see that familiar signage (love the non-neon “steaks, chops, sea food” sic shingle around the side, too) and multi-page menu with 24/7 breakfast, my body tingles with happy, warm nostalgia. I don’t come for the food but for the feelings.  I tried researching the history of this place both online and in person (the staff, though sweet, seemed confused as to why anyone would care when the restaurant opened). But exactly who founded it when remains a mystery. I did discover that from the ‘40s through 1968, it was the site of a legendary lesbian bar named the Pony Stable Inn, where Beat greats (and non-lesbians) Gregory Corso and Allen Ginsberg met and developed a lifelong friendship. Before that, it was the Mad Hatter Tearoom, a famous bohemian haven that attracted artists like writer Sinclair Lewis and actresses the Gish sisters. At some point it became the diner we know today, and while it’s not exactly a hotbed of rebellion (it seems to cater to NYU students and old-timers like me), I was tickled to read that in recent years the Occupy Movement has used it for secret meetings (man I hope that’s true!).  Although the signage is, I suspect, original, the interior has been updated somewhat. But it never got a total reno like the Waverly Restaurant up the block. So the Washington Square Diner still seems trapped in a cozy time warp with its kitschy wall art, counter and stools, massive menu and more shades of brown than the ‘70s.       My daughter and I have actually been to the Washington Square Diner many, many times, which may be why it was difficult getting adorable observations out of her (that and the fact that, at 10, she’s getting a little surly). She’s also been complaining that the only Old New York venues we visit are restaurants, so I need to make a point of adding some stores, shoe repair places, pharmacies and other businesses to my list. But she did have a couple of insightful comments. 

Kid’s observations:   “The paintings on the wall look old-timey.” (Just look at that “Classic Hats” illustration. It looks like something you might find in one of those hotel art sales.) 

“That's weird: With most neon signs at least two letters don't light up anymore. All of these do!”  In regards to being able to see the cooks at work, “It's good because you can be at least 98% sure that they're not putting chemicals in your food.” *Yeah, good luck with that.)