It is 6:30 p.m. and I have just arrived at home. Rushing to ready myself as fast as I can for several hours of line dancing, carousing and a scrumptious meal at the Alpine Restaurant in Torrance, CA. Now it is 7:00 p.m., and I have my mind set on a beef dip sandwich and a bowl of the best potato soup. My dad gives me a ride and drops me off at the front 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 maitre'd and start walking across the restaurant to my favorite table. The schedule has a monthly list…
