Edith’s is a place where not much has changed in 16 years. The menu is the same, the booths are the same thick, burgundy fake leather (with a few more cracks), there is still a working jukebox, and many of the employees are the same. When Leslie walks in, they don’t say, “Hi Leslie” they holler “June-y, hey baby!” They know her by her childhood nickname. They know HER. There – at Edith’s – she belongs.