flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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Location: Philly

I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

March 31, 2005

50 Things I Love About Philly In No Order Particularly - #44

(Like the title says, this is a list of things I've loved about philly, in the 17 years I've lived in this area. Also, like the title says, they're in no particular order. It's also not an inculsive list. These were just the first fifty that popped into my head. I'm gonna dish one up fresh, weekly. Also, I've started at the "bottom" to keep you tuned in. It's part of my nefarious plan for readership. Mwa-ha-ha-haaaaa.)

“Everybody who knows goes to Melrose…”

If ever there was a better earworm than the Melrose Diner jingle, I’ve not found it. And being the mother of two small children, I’ve heard my share of earworms.

The song isn’t the only catchy thing about the Melrose…

Diners supposedly used to be a staple of Philly and Philly suburb life. They’re still a staple over the river in Joisey. But out in the burbs, you’re hard pressed to find a diner at all.

Deep in the heart of Sout Filly, there’s a wonderful diner.

Walk in there at any time of day and you’ll see a guy huddled up to the counter – ordering the same thing he’s ordered for the last forty years. You can almost see the young guy superimposed on the old one. For him, the Melrose is habit, not tradition. Booths are filled with couples

And behind the counter are the wait staff, busy as bees, changing coffee pots, rotating the pies.

Oh, the pies.

I’ve never actually eaten FOOD at the Melrose. But the pies. Don’t tell my mom, but they’re better than hers (and that’s saying something, my friend). It might have something to do with the fact that “they use real buttah in their crust”, as my Sout Filly landlord, Mrs. Parroto, used to say.

I especially love the coconut cream pie.

The service is always the same – “whaddya want, dear?” – the coffee is always the same, the counters, the booths, the ambiance. Next time you find yourself down there, say, after going to see Cirque du Soleil (that’s the last time I went), hustle on down to the Melrose. And have a piece of Chocolate Cream pie for me. Yummy.



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