For three minutes and fifty-two seconds, the generation gap vanished. The 80s drum machines held hands with the 50s guitars. When the final notes of the medley faded and the rabbit vanished in a puff of glittery smoke, the diner fell silent.
"Quiet night, Eddie," remarked Sarah, a regular who spent more time nursing a single coffee than most people spent on a three-course meal. jive_bunny_the_mastermixers_thats_what_i_like
Every customer in the diner—from the truck driver in the corner to the teenagers sharing a float—was suddenly caught in the "Mastermix." It was a whirlwind of decades. They twisted to shouted along to "Johnny B. Goode," and did the hand-jive to "Good Golly, Miss Molly." For three minutes and fifty-two seconds, the generation
He didn't select a specific record. He hit a sequence he’d never tried before: . "Quiet night, Eddie," remarked Sarah, a regular who