Yesterday, my daughter, Juliette, and I were out around lunch time, and she was in dire need of a tuna melt. So we stopped at Nicks, a local eatery. Even in this recession, with so many of the shoreline restaurants holding on by the skin of their teeth, this simple family storefront restaurant manages to draw a loyal crowd of regulars.
The food is mostly basic, with lots of choices, and all of it tasty. None of it is too expensive. No one leaves Nicks thinking they didn’t get a square deal. But the bonus is Nick himself.
A youthful 87 years old, Nick comes around to every table, “Hello. How are you?”—engaging old timers and newcomers alike. As we’re leaving, we thank Nick, and he asks Juliette about where she goes to school and what grade she’s in. She’s charmed by him; he’s like instant grandpa. Two ladies come through the door, “Hello, ladies, find a comfortable place; take a seat.” After they pass he says, “You talk nice to people, they like you.”
All day Juliette and I imitate Nick’s accent and sweet voice, “You talk nice to people; they like you.” We smile whenever we think of him. Nicks is now our favorite place.