*Opens different door that has old, peeling red paint on it and murmurs*
Oh my God. I guess I'm not the only one.
*Squints into Dark, Smoky bar and sees Mr. Blog and walks
over to his rickety table and sits on a tippy old chair*
This is different Mr. Blog. What is this place?
*listens to his story*
I can't believe you would ever come to a place like this but I have
heard that well-educated people with jobs and money like to "slum it."
It is so weird to see dozens of people in pajamas in the middle of the day.
*Looks at table then lights a Salem light and gulps her 7 7.*
Bleh, that is awful. I don't even drink or smoke but I like it.
*Looks at raised platform and hears old black men singing the blues*
"No job, no money-
dirty looks
from my honey"
Wow Mr. Blog. I could have written that song.
Funny how this makes me feel better.
Like I'm not alone in my joblessness and total despair.
I feel less alone and pathetic and at least we went somewhere.
Beats staying at home in our pajamas.
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