A week ago, on September 20, a friend and I confusedly stumbled into what may have been a dry cleaners, brightly lit with white neon lighting overhead and a solitary dark-haired girl sitting at a white table in the back next to a freezer door. She asked us for our I.D.’s. Once she made sure we were of legal drinking age she motioned us to the freezer door. We carefully pulled at the latch. What was on the other side of the door was not a freezer, but instead, a dimly lit, quite crowded, small, yet trendy bar, with a band setting up in the back.
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