Late Afternoon: A Day in the Life at Diz’s

It’s somewhere between two and four in the afternoon. Lunch has wound down, the supper crowd hasn’t quite arrived, and the day seems to have found a comfortable rhythm of its own.

The door opens. Someone comes in, bringing a little of the outside world with them. The door closes. A few minutes later, it opens again.

I’m sitting in my favorite seat, my vanilla coffee close at hand, looking around the room. And I start to notice all the different little worlds unfolding around me.

At Diz’s, there’s no such thing as a typical afternoon.

Through the window, I can see people passing by with their dogs, heading somewhere or perhaps just enjoying the day. At the window bar, a young woman has settled in with her journal. Her pen moves across the page as she pauses now and then to think. I wonder what she’s writing. Maybe she’s sorting through something that’s happened today, making plans for tomorrow, or simply enjoying a little time with her own thoughts.

She seems perfectly content right where she is. A window seat, a little quiet, and nowhere she needs to be just yet.

A couple of seats down, two older gentlemen are getting acquainted. One is a regular, someone I recognize, and today he’s introducing a friend from his nearby apartment building to Diz’s. I love that. There’s something about showing someone a place you enjoy, letting them in on a little secret they might not have discovered on their own. One conversation leads to another, and before you know it, a neighborhood feels a little smaller.

I take another sip of my coffee and glance down the counter. A younger guy is working his way through a bowl of soup. He’s having an early supper, and I can’t help thinking how nice it is that he doesn’t have to wait until everyone else decides it’s time to eat. Sometimes you’re hungry when you’re hungry. Sometimes soup is exactly what the afternoon calls for.

Across the room, a woman is enjoying a late lunch and coffee while chatting with a friend on her computer. Every so often, her attention shifts between the screen and her meal. Whatever they’re talking about seems to have found its own pace. There’s no need to rush the quiet conversation or hurry through lunch.

At the next table, two older women are catching up. You know the kind of conversation I mean. There’s always another story, another question, something that happened last week that absolutely has to be shared. They have a lot of catching up to do, and from where I’m sitting, they seem to have found just the right place to do it.

Then I spot a familiar face I haven’t seen in a while. She used to be one of our regulars, but it’s been some time since she’s been in. Today, she’s back, and she’s brought a first date to Diz’s.

Now, I don’t know how the date is going. I’m not about to interrupt to find out! But I do find myself smiling at the thought that someone has chosen Diz’s for this particular afternoon. Maybe it’s familiar. Maybe it’s comfortable. Maybe she simply knows we’ll make her feel at home. Whatever the reason, here they are, sharing a table and beginning a story of their own.

A few tables over, another couple of guests are enjoying supper. One has put the workday behind her, while the other still has his computer open, squeezing in a little more work between bites. His eyes move from the screen to his plate to his partner and back again. I suspect the work can wait a little longer.

Around here, people don’t always need to explain why they’re here or what they have left to do. Sometimes you just need a meal, a comfortable chair, and a change of scenery. The rest can work itself out.

At the front counter, a teacher and and her spouse, a person whose work is listening to others, have settled in for a game of cards. Somewhere between shuffling, dealing, and eating, they keep an eye on the others next move, the hour is passing quite nicely. It’s a reminder that not every afternoon needs to be productive in the usual sense. And then, as they get up to leave, they hear the music and start dancing. Just like that, a quiet afternoon at the counter has turned into something else entirely. I can’t help smiling. You never really know what you’re going to see at Diz’s. Sometimes it’s another cup of coffee. Sometimes it’s a good conversation. And sometimes, apparently, it’s a dance floor.

Not far away, a mother, a news publisher, and her daughter are working through the key issues of the day. Their table has become a little newsroom, with ideas being exchanged, details considered, and the important stories beginning to take shape.

It’s not just the two of them, either. People stop by, add a thought, share a perspective, and move on. The conversation seems to grow a little each time someone joins in.

Then the door opens, and in walks a lady in pink to pick up her takeout order.

She spots the news ladies across the room and waves hello. But instead of simply collecting her food and heading back out the door, she decides there’s something she wants to bring to the table. A developing issue, another piece of the day’s conversation, something worth talking about.

And just like that, the newsroom has another contributor.

I take another sip of my coffee and think how very Diz’s that is. People come in for one reason and end up sharing something else entirely. A quick pickup turns into a conversation. A familiar face brings a new perspective. And a table that started with people sorting through the day’s news becomes a place where the community has a chance to talk.

I think I’ve got the afternoon figured out by now. Then the door opens again.

Someone has come looking for coffee. It’s late afternoon, and with so many coffee shops already closed for the day, finding a decent cup isn’t always as easy as you’d think. This person wasn’t necessarily looking for a meal or planning to settle in for long. They just wanted coffee.

Well, they’ve come to the right place. Maybe they’ll take it to go. Maybe they’ll notice an open seat and decide to stay a while. Either way, there’s coffee to be had, and there’s room for one more.

And that’s the thing about these hours at Diz’s.

I look around again. The journal is still open. Friends are still talking. Someone is finishing a meal, someone else is working through a project, and the news conversation continues, and the door will open again soon enough.

Everyone has arrived with a different reason for being here. Some are hungry. Some need a little quiet. Some want company, and others have brought their company with them. There are old friends and new acquaintances, first dates, familiar faces, work to be done, cards to be played, and, apparently, dancing to be had.

All of it happening in the same room, on the same ordinary afternoon.

From the outside, two to four might look like the hours between things. Between lunch and supper. Between finishing work and heading home. Between one appointment and the next.

But sitting here, watching it all unfold, I don’t think of these hours as the time between anything. They’re their own little part of the day.

A chance to pause. To reconnect. To think things through, share a meal, get a little work done, or do a little dancing when the music strikes you just right.

And maybe that’s what I love about an afternoon at Diz’s. You don’t need a plan, a crowd, or a special occasion. You can come on your own, meet a friend, finish a project, or stop in because you’re craving soup and a cup of coffee.

You don’t have to wait for the lunch rush or the supper crowd. You don’t have to make an occasion out of it.

Just come on in.

Find a seat by the window, settle in at a table, or pull up to the counter. Order that late lunch, early supper, or afternoon coffee. Take a breath. See who you run into. You might find exactly what you came looking for. Or you might find that the best part of your day is the part you hadn’t planned at all. And if you happen to hear music playing, well, don’t be surprised if someone gets up to dance.

Diz’s Cafe. Eat. Drink. Be Happy.