As one of my regular objects of obsession, I have checked in on the Sunview Luncheonette at least once every year since the classic Greenpoint diner shut its doors in 2008, after an inspection from the Department of Health made things too cost prohibitive for the old Greek woman who ran it to reopen. The owner has left the interior untouched. I like to peer in and see how time is treating the old booth, telephone booths, stools, counter and menu board. But never once have I seen a flicker of life inside.
Last week, however, I was sitting on a bench opposite the diner, resting my feet, when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a darkened figure slip in the front door of the diner and the screen door bang shut. I jumped to my feet and crossed the street. Maybe, if I asked nicely, I could gain access to the restaurant and ask a few questions about its future. I came to the window and peered in. No one was inside. I went to the door. It was locked. Strange.
I stood outside the diner for a good ten minutes. Whoever had gone in there was not making a sound or moving a muscle. I know I had seen someone. Had they slipped out the back? Or is the Sunview Luncheonette haunted?