Seventeen Minutes on Route 18 Wrecked an Eighteen-Million-Dollar Corporate Buyout

I ate it down to the plate.

When she brought the check, it was twenty-two dollars and forty cents.

I put eighty dollars on the table.

She stared at the bills.

“Christopher, honey, that’s too much.”

“You kept me upright at noon,” I said.

“I’m not paying for meatloaf.

I’m paying for the booth.”