It was a fifties style diner, complete with jukebox and faded, framed photos of old cars, old movie stars, and old menus. People who loved the Last Ch...nce Diner did so in large part because it never changed. They could depend on old-fashioned ambiance and sensible meals. The patrons on that last night were the same patrons who filled it every other night.“I thought it might be the end of the world coming,” proclaimed the cook, noticing the flashing numerals and inadvertently starting another. As she sipped it, I didn't look at her."So how was your night?"I didn't know how to answer that, not right away. Images flashed in my head of how I'd spent it and my body still felt sore, my muscles tight and I knew I'd be spending some time in the spa later on. Anything to loosen them up because I knew I had made plans to go with Sheila to the jazz club again."Quiet ... I just did some reading..."I knew it was a lie my mother wouldn't challenge. Face it; she'd always thought I was a bit of a. More

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