My first memory of Diesel is carrying my newborn daughter in a baby bjorn, facing outwards, to see the new coffee shop that had opened days earlier. It was apparently on a tragic mission to survive across the street from Starbucks, and for that alone it had my respect. My daughter had been in the newborn ICU for months, and so just getting to walk down the street, not to mention soak in Davis Square and get coffee, was a joy. I still remember the smiling face of the person who served us (not the name unfortunately)– she delightedly greeted my daughter as we stepped inside. Another deliciously ordinary, good thing. This was not a nurse, or a doctor, or a loved one. Just someone from the neighborhood, doing a regular job at a coffee shop, saying hello. Enjoying life.
We no longer live down the street, but I do work nearby (with a job I secured over coffee at Diesel, as it happens), and I’m grateful every chance I get to sit down in a booth, sip, and savor what 20 years have brought.
Congratulations to Diesel, you all serve goodness.