Atlanta's Ponce de Leon Avenue is a street of contrasts. On the one hand, there's an abundance of shopping centers and chain restaurants much like any other Atlanta street. But there's also a side to Ponce that's steeped in history, a side that contains remnants of a bygone era with parks built by famed architects like Frederick Law Olmsted and restaurants like the Majestic Diner.
The Majestic Diner stands out with its Art-Deco architecture and its blazing neon red and green signs that have been wooing in customers since 1929. Sweeping curves and chrome not only characterize the outside of the restaurant, but also interior elements like the swiveling counter stools and the metallic light boxes showcasing menu items.
Today there is a wide cast of characters in the restaurant. At the counter, an older lady is laboring over a Sudoku puzzle as she sips on her coffee. Sitting near the mirrored wall, two flannel-decked men pick at some greasy, thick-cut fries. Two grizzly-bearded construction workers from across the street sit down before quickly deciding to eat elsewhere. The manager cusses under his breath as he mops up the dirt that the two tracked in before leaving.
The scene is pretty typical, but many of the patrons are more tired-looking than usual. At one point, a man wearing some raggedy clothes enters and simply orders tea. It's conceivable that he's homeless, but I hesitate to ask. The same goes for the lady with the Sudoku puzzle, who carries a bag filled with clothes and a jug of water.
Nonetheless, they still seem content at this moment. The Majestic's food may be standard greasy diner fare, but in its simplicity, there is something universally appealing no matter who you are or where you are heading next.
The Majestic Diner stands out with its Art-Deco architecture and its blazing neon red and green signs that have been wooing in customers since 1929. Sweeping curves and chrome not only characterize the outside of the restaurant, but also interior elements like the swiveling counter stools and the metallic light boxes showcasing menu items.
Today there is a wide cast of characters in the restaurant. At the counter, an older lady is laboring over a Sudoku puzzle as she sips on her coffee. Sitting near the mirrored wall, two flannel-decked men pick at some greasy, thick-cut fries. Two grizzly-bearded construction workers from across the street sit down before quickly deciding to eat elsewhere. The manager cusses under his breath as he mops up the dirt that the two tracked in before leaving.
The scene is pretty typical, but many of the patrons are more tired-looking than usual. At one point, a man wearing some raggedy clothes enters and simply orders tea. It's conceivable that he's homeless, but I hesitate to ask. The same goes for the lady with the Sudoku puzzle, who carries a bag filled with clothes and a jug of water.
Nonetheless, they still seem content at this moment. The Majestic's food may be standard greasy diner fare, but in its simplicity, there is something universally appealing no matter who you are or where you are heading next.