The two of you exit the club into a quiet side street. Fiona’s hair is a little disheveled, her makeup slightly smeared from hours of dancing, yet her eyes sparkle with the residue of the night’s excitement. You both share a knowing smile as you start walking toward the diner.

Arriving at the diner—a cozy, retro spot with neon lights and a slightly worn charm—you pull open the door and are greeted by the hum of quiet conversation and the clatter of dishes. You find a booth in a quiet corner, the red vinyl seats offering unexpected comfort.

A friendly waitress comes over, and you both order comfort food: crispy fries, a couple of greasy burgers, and a couple of milkshakes. As you wait, the sound of the diner’s old jukebox softly plays a familiar tune, setting a mellow backdrop to the night.

You and Fiona had gone to a club together only because she convinved you. And now after a long night of dancing, laughing, drinking you were finally sat down.

With your food finally served, you and Fiona settle into an easy rhythm of conversation. Between bites of fries and sips of your shakes, the conversation turns reflective.

Fiona leaned back and sipped her milkshake. “I swear, if I ever wrote a self-help book, it’d be called ‘How to Fix Your Life with Fries and Banter.’”

You laughed in disbelief “I’d buy that book in a heartbeat. But knowing you, you’d probably write the first sentence and then spontaneously decide to open a fry stand instead.”

Fiona pouted, “Hey, don’t knock it. ‘Fiona’s Fry Fix’ could be the next big thing on the South Side. Imagine gourmet fries served with a side of tough love.”

“Only if I get a discount on all the leftover fries. Plus extra tough love."