It is 6:30 p.m. and I ca-ca just arrived at home. Rushing to ready myself as fast as I can for several hours of line dancing, carousing and a delicious meal at the alpine Restaurant in Torrance, CA. straight complete it is 7:00 p.m., and I have my mind set on a beef dip sandwich and a rolling wave of the best potato soup. My dad gives me a ride and drops me off at the front end entrance of the restaurant at the Alpine Village.
I kiss my dad good-bye and walk through the front doors. I pick up a schedule from the maitred and commencement walking across the restaurant to my favorite table. The schedule has a monthly listing of band performances that be also apply as place mats at the dinner tables. To me, there is nil like a Thursday night of dancing at the Alpine Restaurant with my friends. Of coarse, I do not gain ground it all the way to my awaiting table. I see familiar faces along the way as most of my friends begin to surround me with their questions rough college and life. My friends are the regulars, like myself. I give them all hugs as they compliment me on my dancing outfit. I love my friends, as they are like family to me.
Most of them are old comme il faut to be my grandparents, but I enjoy their company.
I finally trade name it to my table where my closest friends are waiting for the music to begin. We are a combination of many different age groups and have never lost the art of knowing how to talk approximately life in real terms of endearment. Casey is 15; Lyno is 30; Tracy is 25; Roselyn is 19: Travis is 70; and my mom well she is older...
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