I Judged a Group of Bikers at My Diner— What They Did Next Changed Me Forever
When fifteen bikers walked into my diner late one Tuesday night, my instincts took over before my heart had a chance to catch up. Leather vests, heavy boots, tattoos, and long beards filled the room, and after thirty-two years of running Maggie’s Diner, I thought I knew what trouble looked like. I demanded payment…
