I once spent 24 hours in a Denny’s for the Daily Bruin.

My editors had seemingly pitched the idea as a gag, not quite expecting me to embrace the concept for a magazine story. But just a couple weeks later, I was 14 hours deep into one of the longest nights of my life, interviewing fellow Denny’s denizens amid the worst tummy ache of my life.

The end result was a story aptly titled “24 hours at Denny’s” – easily the worst story I ever wrote for Daily Bruin’s PRIME magazine and perhaps the newspaper as a whole. The random introduction, weird pacing, inadequate food reviews and pointlessness of it all permeates every paragraph. Somehow, as I reflect on the story I wrote after a day’s worth of intentional sleep deprivation, I find flaws I will never overlook.

It is also my favorite story I’ve ever written, and it remains an experience I will cherish forever.

I expected that Denny’s visit to be lonely and deeply alienating – a trial in solitude akin to an Edward Hopper painting. Instead, it became the social event of the quarter, with dozens of Daily Bruin staffers keeping me company until the early hours of the morning. I met so many people I would soon call friends, and I felt like part of the newspaper at large for the first time.

Perhaps more sentimentally, it was what I became known for in the newspaper. I was more than just the incoming PRIME content editor – I was “that Denny’s guy,” a title I proudly wore for months inside and outside the newsroom. It was hard to escape that conversation in introductions, and so many of the interns I began to hire cited the article as a point of inspiration.

It was also the first all-nighter I pulled for this newspaper – though far from my last. Just a few weeks later I would become an editor for PRIME magazine, spending long nights editing stories to meet deadlines. Just a year later, I would be covering the overnight reporting shift during the Palestine solidarity encampment. This newspaper is responsible for a plurality of my life’s most stressful nights, something I was warned of as I entered editorship but never quite internalized.

And yet, at no point was I ever alone. I sat in Dickson Plaza with the PRIME director who hired me for an entire night, reflecting on our experiences with The Bruin amid those brief quiet moments. I hopped on late-night calls with fellow writers to keep each other company ahead of our Monday morning deadlines. And at Denny’s, a few staffers stuck with me late into the night, ensuring I drank my hourly coffees and making my 24-hour stint exponentially better.

I don’t love my Denny’s story because it reminds me of Denny’s – my stomach turns at the thought of ever returning, in fact.

Instead, I hold fond feelings for it because it refocused my attention on those around me – the editors and writers who have supported and taught me in countless ways. It prepared me for editorship in a way no other story could by reaffirming the importance of people over products and bonds over bylines.

I have already forgotten half the stories I’ve written for this newspaper, and I guarantee I will forget the other half in due time. But I will never forget losing a chicken-eating contest to an intrepid Arts trio, officiating a rooftop wedding or sitting side by side with writers as we finalize their flawless drafts. And, of course, I will never forget spending 24 hours at Denny’s. Twice.

Because just this past April, I returned to the Westwood Denny’s for another 24-hour stint, once again encouraging staffers to pull through and turn the diner into a social club. I was looking for that same magic that had made me fall in love with the Daily Bruin just a couple years prior – the experience that made me into the editor I am today.

But nothing of the sort came. It was a fun time, but the whole exercise felt pointless – particularly as I fought off terrifying tummy aches and life-threatening bouts of boredom in the early morning. It was not the revelatory experience I remembered my first visit being.

In retrospect, the culprit is obvious. I first went to Denny’s during a deeply uncertain moment, when I was first taking the leap into editorship – into the Daily Bruin becoming my main priority as a student. In that first trip, I found reassurance and community – something I would maintain over the next two years.

Coming back, I had already found my place. I no longer needed an elaborate stunt to make myself known – I had already been a part of something for four long years.

And now, I’m leaving it. It’s bittersweet, but I know my time here is done.

I have a million people I want to thank from those four years – but they already know how much they mean to me. Instead, as I reflect on my time at the Daily Bruin, I only need to thank one establishment.

Thank you to Denny’s, for helping me find my place in this newspaper and at UCLA. And thank you to everyone who made that first Denny’s trip – and everything that came after – so very special.

Take care.

Sevcik was the PRIME director 2024-2025 and PRIME content editor 2023-2024. He was also Copy, Design and PRIME staff and an Arts, News and Quad contributor.