I dreamt that I was wandering through the deep playa at night, and I was getting hungry. In the distance I saw a neon sign that said "Diner", and as I got closer I could see an old classic diner just sitting out in the middle of nowhere. I dusted myself off, walked inside and took a seat at the counter. Chrome everywhere, red sparkly vinyl barstools, the whole nine yards. The inside of the diner was remarkably dust-free. It was pristine and shiny.
The guy behind the counter was dressed like a classic soda jerk, with the paper hat, white shirt/apron and everything. He was wiping down the countertop, like every diner guy does. He asked "What can I getcha?" and I asked for the NJ classic sandwich, a taylor ham, egg and cheese (taylor ham = pork roll, to those outside Jersey), and a cup of coffee. It was so greasy, so bad for me, and so good.
Makes me want to rent an Airstream and turn it into a classic diner for '08. Ya know, American Dream and all.