Good diner: Max and Gwen
Gwen had no real concept of the town's hours or schedules. Her lack of comprehension couldn't even be blamed on her relocation from New York, where things remained open late into the night, to here, where everyone went to bed after the late night news. No, her lack of understanding was totally the fault of pop culture and modern media, which was Gwen's only real view of the world outside her laboratory walls. On television, things were always open, and the world never closed. It was a misunderstanding, one that was based on her assumption that what she saw on her laptop screen was an accurate depiction of totally everything ever.
(TL;DR. Gwen didn't know the diner was closing.)
She'd slipped out after the last guard change, with the assistance of her handler. The scientist was nice to her and willing to help her experience the world a little bit, so long as he wasn't held in any way responsible if the order's main test subject went missing or, worse, harmed herself in any way. But Gwen was aware of the risks being taken for her; she was super careful, and she didn't venture out often. She'd been out twice in the past month, and her previous outing had been the very first since she'd been transferred to the facility in Repose.
The girl that stepped into the diner was entirely forgettable. Just out of her teens and wearing laboratory scrubs in white, along with a soft and cheery sweater, and white sneakers that looked fresh out of the box (not even one scuff!), she skidded to a stop and stared unblinkingly at the man behind the counter. His expression was regarded for a moment, as she tried to reason it out and place it, and then she stepped forward with a dimple-dug smile. "Is that apple pie?" She wasn't carrying any bags or purses, and the pockets of her white pants were pressed flat against her leg. She had no way of paying for that pie and. while she understood the concept of currency as a concept, no one ever actually paid for anything on television.