Baltimore diners should take a look at New Jersey - Perfidy to Jersey?

Twenty-four hour diners should exist in every state. You need a little background: I grew up in New Jersey with the comfort of these fine neighboring establishments and find it discouraging that Maryland does not have a multitude of them.

I always found solace in Matthew's Colonial Diner in Waldwick and the Suburban Diner in Paramus. If my friends and I wanted to mix it up, we'd head over to the Empress in Fair Lawn or Tiffany's Diner in Ramsey. I also enjoyed the Beach Haven Diner down on Long Beach Island - check out http://www.njdiners.com for a comprehensive list.)

The degenerates and overachievers in my high school class alike sought refuge behind these diners' old-school doors, where the waiters and waitresses seemed like family, where the coffee brewed relentlessly, where the cheese fries were always ready for gravy, and where the trey f-tastic Taylor Ham, egg, and cheese sandwiches piled up and departed in the back like hotcakes. Sure, those Goths were always loud and obnoxious, the iced water was actually liquefied ice, the coffee I described turned frigid within two minutes, and the service was never really top-notch, but come on, it was always open, and it could serve as a place to catch up with someone you haven't seen in a while, a post-party escape, a stupid Friday night date location, a Sunday brunch hot spot or a point which can serve any occasion that isn't rigorously formal. Besides, I am parsimonious (yes, I'm Jewish, but that has nothing to do with it, I swear), so I found all these diners to have C&C Carryout-worthy prices - just fabulous! Finally - this claim is a little discriminating - there are more people in the smoking section compared to non-smoking in any given diner, and I dig that.

What the hell good is college if you can't get something decent to eat if you've been studying all night and are subsisting on a few Triscuits you snagged for breakfast, half a Pizza Hut personal pie you had time for at Levering between classes and whatever meal you happened to butcher that night? Sure, you can snakebite something at Royal Farms, but by doing so, you're sacrificing all the cool-ass stuff that diners provide: a relaxing atmosphere, sit-down sanctuary, the "How To Make Drinks" placemats, the aspirant artwork on the stained walls, the waitress who started to put eye-liner on at 4 a.m. before her 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. shift.

I'm sorry, Hopkins "diners." Paper Moon is much too expensive, way too artsy and far too slow in service to even sit in the same field as the Jersey joints. Nifty Fifties doesn't even count: it's really a - I shudder at the very thought! - restaurant.

In New Jersey, if you have nothing to do, you go to a diner. If you have something you have to do that you don't want to do, you go to a diner. Yes, the twenty-four hour eatery may not be much, and pathetically, most books about Jersey are diner guides, but we fucking like them, so there.

Hopkins is a swell place, but it would be reassuring to have a nearby safe haven where the coffee wasn't priced like Starbucks, Cafe Q, Xando's or Donna's, where you could get breakfast, lunch, or dinner anytime, and where you can sit down and not think about whatever it is you have to do.

Don't discriminate against the nocturnal people. Bad news, but the vending machines in the Hut just don't cut it. If the rest of the country doesn't ever come to its senses, then at least Hopkins should: it should turn MegaBYTES into a diner. Keep the staff, I say. I guarantee you that it will make all the homesick Jersey freshmen feel better. Or maybe knock down Clark Hall and create Clark Diner. More job opportunities there, plus it would ease the minds of the BME kids who recently took their Phys. Found. test that I heard so much about. You could always transform one of the music rooms in the Mattin Center: the H. Ross Jones Georgian Diner!

Twenty-four hour diners are my source of happiness and New Jersey will always be the best because of them. Sorry Maryland, and sorry Hopkins, but until you measure up to our standards, you should recognize one thing: you might sneer at us because of our pollution, our suburban mentality, or whatever immature insult you happen to conjure up, but we, the hard-core Jerseyans, are the ones with the real diners, and our laughter beats the shit out of yours.