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Thai Diner

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Thai Diner

Article

Thai Diner is a recurring venue in the Collected Agenda archive, appearing 1 times across 1 issues between March 06, 2026 and March 06, 2026. The archive places it in contexts such as “Thai Diner is kind of Michelin-star style. Really good food”; “we took a CitiBike over towards Thai Diner”; “Places Thai Diner”. It most often appears alongside A Place in the Sun, Ali RQ, Angelica.

Metadata

  • Category: Venues
  • Mention count: 1
  • Issue count: 1
  • First seen: March 06, 2026
  • Last seen: March 06, 2026

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

Humanoid-Robots
March 06, 2026 · Original source
Thai Diner
In the summer, when the air was sickly sweet and I was feeling ill but knew the day would be ok to pass in the sort of languid-and-waiting-for-it-to-end kind of way, we took a CitiBike over towards Thai Diner. We biked along the Hudson River, first. In Riverside Park, I stopped alongside the dinosaur playground and the firefighter memorial and I touched the shiny metal heads of all these structures left behind. My companions were irritated yet understanding of this divergence. We biked to the George Washington Square Bridge after that, and Jennifer jumped in the dirty water, and Riley vomited off the pier. Back downtown, the air was humid and heavy and the wait outside Thai Diner was long, which made everyone feel kind of claustrophobic if not necessarily physically worse. Not traditional not traditional not traditional, Ian kept on saying. Kicking rocks around Chinatown. He liked this place nonetheless. Thai Diner is cartoonishly bright and the greenhouse heats quickly and it is not the sort of place to visit during summer storms. When the rain started, Ian and I walked to the chocolate factory. At the chocolate factory, he bought me sweets painted like portraits and water colors and little mini worlds. Best chocolates in the world, he kept on saying. I unwrapped the chocolates like little parcels, and we both found them to be quite a delight. Thai Diner is kind of Michelin-star style. Really good food. Mango and coconut sticky rice. Curries and fried cod. Every bite delights, but all I can really remember is we were all too sick or maybe just too hot to eat. I ordered hot toddy because it’s good to drink warm things when warm, and it’s good to drink strong things when hands are shaking at the cedar wood counter of a nice restaurant, and friends are dripping Hudson River water all over the floor. Ian ordered a smoothie that was green and piled high with coconut-flakes. Get me out of here, he kept on saying. I love this place, he said. I feel so goddamn bad. Get me a cab right now. We went home after that, and the greenhouse roof at home made the whole place boil and so I fell asleep easily, even midday. I think I fell asleep for the rest of the year, or at least the afternoon.
Winter, now, and the snow is starting to come down fast and steep but it’s not yet sticking. It is dark outside mostly from the storm but a little bit from the normal evening setting in. I am in my room and I am listening to the turtle pond and also Tango In the Night (1987). The music and the water from the pond are loud, because the snow has made everything else quiet. Waiting for a taxi cab in the snow. Taxi cabs are like space ships in the sleet. One has to take a taxi cab, because the air and pavement have become too slippery to walk. Once one takes a taxi cab down the block, one wonders if one will be able to get home. Seems kind of silly to be going to Thai Diner in the snow, but I like how everything kind of hovers before the storm. At Thai Diner, there are purge alerts blaring on my phone. Apocalyptic ideation is such a narcissistic preoccupation. The greenhouse seating has been sheathed in plastic strips and heat lamps, and the restaurant looks even brighter in the dark. I wear a big black coat that I stole from a nightclub back when I was in the habit of going to nightclubs and stealing things. My philosophy with teenage-stealing was always an eye-for-an-eye. If someone took my coat, I would reach into the pile and take home whatever came up first. It’s not good to be transactional in this way. Never really sought redemption. Never really learned to drive in snow, and so wheels-on-ice and taxi-cabs sliding through stop lights are making me feel nostalgic. Teenage boys are taking photos in the snow. Crab fried rice and martini in the snow, because it’s good to drink cold-things-when-cold and because the weather and the cycles repeat and repeat and repeat. No chaos, except sometimes, out of the storm, a person walks along the street and I watch them through the plastic like I am watching T.V. Then, just when they are about to leave my line of vision, they fall or maybe fling themselves against the side of the building. Later, the trees outside will be weighed down with heavy snow. The branches won’t look like skeletons. Everything will look larger-than-life. When I look outside from a very certain angle, I will be able to imagine a forest. I will be able to imagine the Arctic. Don’t fucking ever do that again, the people at the table over are saying. They are talking to their phones. Purge alerts on everyone’s phone. Whatever.

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