The bar is lively tonight. It's 8:30, and the train isn't until 9:04, so I've got a half hour to burn, might as well grab a couple of beers.

Bass, thanks.
Four- seventy-five.
A seven and seven to my left. Her friend orders a vodka tonic.
The bitter auburn liquid passes over my tongue, touching and feeling on its way down.
"I work in retail", "Really? I used to, but the commute sucked."
Frankie Goes to Hollywood is the background music that pumps from the juke.
A girl gives a little hair flip while talking to a guy with a wedding ring.
Four girls - four shots.. "We're out for the night!"
Another Bass. Thanks.
The four shot girls are gone, two guys come in and take their seats.
"Hey! I have more patience! I have three kids!" The bartender settles the arguement. Three kids has to have more patience.
Someone behind the bar took the dollar tip I left.
Cigarette smoke wafts through the air. I manage to bum one off some grunge chick drinking Jack.

The train board lights up. Track three.

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