Close Encounters of The Suzie Q Kind

Close Encounters of The Suzie Q Kind!

John Paul Derryberry

It's no bigger than a walk-in closet in a millionaire's house. Yet I couldn't wait to walk in and check out the historical diner during its re-opening week. Suzie Q, a legendary, extra-small, counter-only diner, opened its doors again to the public this week after a change in ownership. As I enter the place, it is packed elbow-to-elbow with people. I stand and wait inches away from someone enjoying an Iowa tenderloin sandwich. They do not seem rushed to pick up their pace even though the waiting line has grown to three. I guess you expect, when you come to a diner like this, to experience close encounters. As three seats open up, we shuffle around to create enough space for everyone to pass with a mere inch between. We exchange the midwestern greeting, "Excuse me, just trying to sneak through here with a smile."

I sit down in the corner spot and view just how they had designed this building in the 40s to fit in all ten seating options with as little space possible. It doesn't come off as cramped, as I can see smiles and hear pieces of every conversation occurring at once. It's quaint, welcoming, and a change of pace from a 2020 restaurant, which would have been designed to allow people to escape to a booth. That would have granted a chance for us to continue to put bubbles up between us and others. I smile and think about how many conversations will be secretly dissected when people pay their bills and head back to our too-much-space-between-us-world of 2020. A young African American man grabs the seat next to me. He orders the same burger I do, and I say, "It looks like we've got similar tastes." He nods in agreement, and the conversation with a stranger begins.

It feels almost like a requirement in this tiny space to strike up a conversation with a stranger. It's almost like, if you don't, you're breaking the social norms of this sacred space. We realize we have a connection as his place of work purchases items from my place of work. Regular restaurant, normal circumstances, he and I would pass through life not realizing we play within the same space. His job can't be complete without some of my employees and my job counts on his company buying what we produce. Connection to others strengthens communities, neighborhoods and ourselves. It's easy to feel all alone in the world. Yet, the Suzie Q diner reminds us that when we dare to squeeze into tiny places, we can find closeness and belonging in cramped space. 

As my countertop friend exits, four people sit down, and I overhear a person talk about buying CDs. I thrust myself into the conversation with a "Wait, what?" But so does the waitress and the people sitting on their left. I didn't know there was still a market for CDS. They explain that they buy CDs of new artists as a way to support the artist's dream. This leads to divulging information between us as to where we land on: the man is a lawyer and I'm in the social/mental health field. The couple between are subject to stats on homelessness, the criminal justice system, foster care, and mental health stats. They passively stay on the sidelines but listen. Maybe they are card-carrying conservatives who struggling to understand the plight of the less fortunate. Perhaps they are fist-in-the-air liberals who are finding confirmation that we need to treat the less fortunate with more compassion. Or, more likely, they land somewhere in between, perhaps having their beliefs swayed by a conversation they rarely get to hear. 

That's a critical part of this. Places like this force us into close encounters with people, ideas, and  conversations we usually shy away from.  These conversations make us uncomfortable because we long ago decided we believe one way and refuse to re-examine our findings. New information always comes to light that should move the needle on our beliefs. The Suzie Q is a place where you can't hide in your bubble. Instead, It's designed to pop your bubble. It forces you into a small space to remind each other that we are all part of a community. Even an average city in northern Iowa comes in all shapes, sizes, and beliefs. In a world where we can choose the channel from which to get our spin news and select our social media in such a way as to not have to hear opinions we do not want, we need close, small spaces to remember that our opinions are not facts. So if you find yourself in Mason City, Iowa, make your way to the Suzie Q. I'll be there most Friday afternoons. I'm all in for their exceptionally good food, conversations I have no idea where they are headed, and close encounters of the diner kind.