Milk Shelf is the setting of many teenage memories. Everyone piles into the car of the kid with the license, and there is a pretense of "where do you want to go tonight?" but really, there is only one choice.   Milk Shelf is the only place in town that doesn't chase out loud kids who buy only small sodas and dinner rolls.   The ancient drip coffee machine is our unofficial mascot. The diner folks are scenery, taking little notice of us through their newspapers, fodder for our philosophy conversations and bystanders to our French Fry fights.

The narrative is told through artifacts rather than snapshots, each painting highlighting a specific object or area of the room. Stark, empty compositions emphasize the walls, with their flaking pastel paint.