A staple of Saint Paul culture. Open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, every day of the year. They dish out what’s dished to them. "Here’s your bacon, asshole," for instance was heard on this visit. A old bum sat down next to us and had a cigarette and was trying to touch the waitress and rile her up. She was strong and continually put him in his place. She told him to "shut the fuck up" a couple of times. He later started sketching on a napkin. He shows Jeff and I a crude drawing: an eyeball, a heart, the words "ex wife," a tree and then a treble clef and some notes. He asks us, "what does that say?" We were stumped. He said, "I love country music."
The food was fantastic and prepared right in front of us. A bizarre experience, but you ever visit Saint Paul, it is essential to have a visit to Mickey’s Diner.
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