Jimmy’s was an average place on the outside. One of those mom and pop corner joints that’s been there since forever; a greasy spoon diner that was built in 1928 and it still clings to the era it was built. The waitresses wore more modern uniforms, looking like they belonged to the 1980’s rather than the 1920’s. It’s a family run place, but the average clientele makes a less-than-family friendly atmosphere.
For the past 20 years, Jimmy’s has been a mix of undercover cops, uniforms brandishing their shields, local thugs, and information brokers. There are other folks that eat there, too; you can’t stay in business for almost 100 years without doing actual business.
Of course, Jimmy and his family have been in the business for a long time. They don’t snitch and they don’t testify. Over the years, Jimmy and his father and his grandfather have taken their beatings to protect their customers, but they haven’t ever whispered a word of betrayal. They pass along messages from a person, to a person, and nothing ever more. They operate more like a switchboard than a traditional information broker.
That doesn’t mean that the occasional fight doesn’t break out. But even with all the medical expenses, with all the damage, Jimmy’s has managed to stay open. Word has it that basically every major faction in town works to do that; Jimmy’s expenses are taken care of, at least as far as the collateral damage when fights do break out. It’s been a miracle so far that none of the customers or wait staff has been seriously injured.
Jimmy’s is a good place to go to get a cup of coffee, the famous Quadruple Bypass Chili, or the Four Alarm Hangover Breakfast. Snuggled into the heart of the Creole Quarter, almost everyone knows about Jimmy’s, and if they don’t, they know someone who knows someone that goes there.