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Submitted:Mar 18, 2013    Reads: 46    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

"Looking at the bar from the parking lot, a wave of trepidation washed over me. The bricks were crumbling and the foundation needed work. There were signs, symbols and names spray painted on the side. Cigarette smoke wafted from the door where the middle aged stout door man sat taking $5 from every patron on their way in. Once inside, it got worse. The once grand and polished hard wood floors were now scratched an discolored showing the history of the seedy establishment. I surveyed the people around me, there was an older man sitting in the corner bar stool, head nodding due to too many adult beverages, his yellowed scraggly beard dipping into the foam of his beer. Scantily dressed women seemed to be strategically placed so that every lonely man in the bar good get a good look. Smoke circled my head, making it hard to breathe. I chose a booth on the side, the cleanest of them and closest to the exit should I need to make a speedy retreat. I slid in on the ripped canvas seat and wiped off crumbs other unknown substances from the table."


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