My Home Away from Home: The Green Leafe

Since I’m from California, if William and Mary is my “home away from home,” then the local deli, The Green Leafe, is my third “home away from home.” Since turning 21 two  Januarys ago, fellow seniors can often spot me hanging out by the large window overlooking the street and the College Delly, with a gin and tonic in one hand, and a cheese fry in the other.

See, people sometimes complain that there’s “nothing to do in Williamsburg,” but forget the little things like getting kicked out of the Deli’s at 2 AM (their closing time), and walking over to WaWa to get some mac n cheese and chicken tenders. By the way, it was only LAST weekend that I discovered that Swem, our dear little library, opens at 1 PM on Sunday afternoons. I’ve known that the delis close at 2 AM for two years now, but I digress…

So what is it that is so special about The Green Leafe that I find myself staring at their bright yellow walls and dead plants hanging out by the windows nearly 3-4 times every week? Could it be the broken mirrors in the bathroom? The drain plugged with toilet paper? Or their choice to refuse to put the soap in the soap dish and instead leave it in a plastic bag resembling the insides of a Franzia box? Is it the seven different types of lighting (twinkly lights, strobe lights, regular lights, dirty chandelier lights (conveniently located next to a disco ball), etc.) lining the walls and ceilings? Or perhaps, and this is my personal favorite, the flying electrical cords positioned directly above a booth in the far left hand corner of the restaurant?

See, the thing about The Green Leafe is that it’s not just a dive bar, it’s my dive bar. As long as I bring my own hand sanitizer, it’s the place where I run into my friends, professors (awkward!), and people who I’d rather not see, just give dirty glances to.  You know, people talk about the close one on one relationships one can establish with professors here, and nothing’s closer than taking a shot with them on a Friday night. Ultimately, The Green Leafe reminds me a lot of John Steinbeck’s description of a grocery store in Cannery Row: “”Lee Chong’s grocery, while not a model of neatness, was a miracle of supply. It was small and crowded but within a single room a man could find everything he needed or wanted to live and to be happy – clothes, food, both fresh and canned, liquor, tobacco, fishing equipment, machinery, boats, cordage, caps, pork chops.” So really, the lights, the soap, the bar, and the people make the place and I hope to see you there. : )

– Lee Desser ’10