Located on the street that bears its name adjacent to the Ellsworth-Federal subway stop on the Orange Line is a diner that separates itself from the pack in areas beyond its round-the-clock service.
Upon entering the diner, an unaccustomed visitor would wait for the host or hostess to seat the new arrivals. At the BSD, as it's affectionately called by this author, a cranky waitress firmly advised me, "Seat yourself at your own risk."
By day, the diner seems like any ordinary urban diner, catering to a diverse clientele and serving traditional diner fare. At about 2 a.m., however, things change. When the local South Philly clubs close for the night, all of the revelers flock to the BSD. Most are still heavily intoxicated and this is when the "seat yourself" policy appears to be most effective. Fights are the norm at the BSD, so if you think that Smokes' Ivy League pussy-fighters aren't big enough for you, throw on your brass knuckles and head down to the BSD. When asked what the clientele was like at night, my waitress responded, "It's bad." When I asked her to elaborate, she gave me a "you know" -- though I clearly didn't.
The menu is quite simple and a couple of dollars cheaper than the University City/Center City areas. Grease is served in excess, and though BSD misses cheddar cheese, there are few aberrations from typical diner fare.
Though you may be used to toothpicks and some fresh mints as you pay the cashier at your local diner, such is not the case at the BSD. Bulletproof (this is not an exaggeration) glass surrounds the cashier; it's as though you're at a shady bank. Be assured, this structure has always been a diner, and never a bank. Slip your cash under the slot and be on your way.
Upon exiting the diner, you encounter the Broad Street Diner's Multi-Purpose Man. His job is to advise customers where to park in the lot and prevent any tumultuous automobile situations. He doubles as street sweeper, as the diner's pavement is always well manicured and free of trash. When I ask if there have been fights at this popular nightspot, he responds, "You should have been here for the past three New Year's Eves. There were tons of cat fights -- I'm talking dozens of women. Last year, there must have been 50 broads fighting!" Well for a Broad Fight on Broad Street next New Year's, there's surely only one place to go.
