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The Swarm Lounge
Valdosta. 3:04am.
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<blockquote data-quote="4shotB" data-source="post: 919747" data-attributes="member: 844"><p>Somehow the mood in the room grew quite somber. The drunk in the corner sneezed into his coffee and hash browns. Wally, the chef who was celebrating 3 weeks of near sobriety, put down his worn copy of Penthouse magazine and went to the jukebox and unplugged it as the Counting Crows song about the smell of hospitals in the winter and all oysters without no pearls was playing on repeat. Trying to lighten the mood he quoted the line from the same song ..."maybe next year will be better than the last". Darlene, the waitress whose 4th husband was disabled and surviving inside an iron lung, at first just shivered. Then wept. The drunk drooled onto the table and then slumped over into sleep? A coma? The next dimension? The stranger just nodded and swept his cigarette ashes onto the floor. The irony of it all was not lost on our protagonist.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="4shotB, post: 919747, member: 844"] Somehow the mood in the room grew quite somber. The drunk in the corner sneezed into his coffee and hash browns. Wally, the chef who was celebrating 3 weeks of near sobriety, put down his worn copy of Penthouse magazine and went to the jukebox and unplugged it as the Counting Crows song about the smell of hospitals in the winter and all oysters without no pearls was playing on repeat. Trying to lighten the mood he quoted the line from the same song ..."maybe next year will be better than the last". Darlene, the waitress whose 4th husband was disabled and surviving inside an iron lung, at first just shivered. Then wept. The drunk drooled onto the table and then slumped over into sleep? A coma? The next dimension? The stranger just nodded and swept his cigarette ashes onto the floor. The irony of it all was not lost on our protagonist. [/QUOTE]
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