Metro Diner

I was not moved terrifically by the Metro Diner (Preston Village area, off Northwest Highway, next to the place that sells a refreshing combination of sunglasses and teddy bears), but there were a few things of note about it that I don't mind sharing on this, the World Wide Web. If you can't share it here, where nobody can hear you, then where CAN you share it, eh? Anyway, the establishment was small, one of the few unfranchised restaurants in the Preston/NW Hwy area, I believe. It was cheap (like me!) and I ordered a breakfast combo called the Woody (insert another cheap joke here...). There appeared no earthly reason for the name; it seemed like your basic Denny's Grand Slam with the added flavor of lard (I'm not arguing). Things to note: Our waitress was female, the girl at the register was female (as most girls are, regardless of the presence of a register), the cook was female, the person who appeared to do nothing save for open and close the refrigerator was female. If the owner of this establishment is a man, then let me struck down dead now because I would really like to think of this place as a little oasis of feminism; the only truly empowering place for a woman to eat her eggs overeasy and get a real shitty cup of coffee with some cream that's been sitting out all day. And there was no cheesy music playing, which would have been a nod to all the mainstream feminist bullshit that doesn't do anything except give women something lame to spend their money on. The fact that the diner was only ten feet by twenty feet (kitchen included) only made me more certain that this was more than a mediocre diner. This was...this was....aw shit, I just lost my whole dissertation. Anyway, main idea: eat at Metro Diner if you don't mind crispy bacon served with a crispier attitude. Thesis statement: Plus, they have biscuits!