Sounds Like My Kind of Joint

Winding up for the night watching a little TV. I hear a ruckus outside. “Get the f**k out of here!” is said a lot.

I go to my bathroom window to witness. Apparently there’s a bar across the street that has eluded my radar. There’s a kid with his shirt off, and he’s gesturing violently or passionately or whatever you want to call it at the rest of the group. They’re all drunk, and there are like three fellows with “security” shirts. There are like 12 or 18 of them total.

I came back here to sit down and write about it and then there’s more noise. I go back and one of them is screaming that he wants to stab somebody in the neck. And then some girl is yelling something about a tetanus shot.

Better than TV, certainly better than re-runs of Ally McBeal. Thanks, Rochester!

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