Patricia

　　The diner is old school with red booths and posters of classic cars on the walls. There is a neon sign outside, glowing from its height, and everyone working here is confident. There is a certain swag and shake to the hips as a waitress comes up to our table. I like it.

　　"Are you ready to order?" The lady is standing there, smiling while holding up a sketchbook rather than an Ipad.

　　"Yes," Dior flashes a killer smile, and I roll my eyes at the ...