Susan went out on a Friday night to hear her friend's band play in a neighborhood bar. It was just like being back in high school except everybody in the bar was old.

Like her.

The music was really loud and Susan felt confined because she couldn't talk. A contributing factor may have been that Susan and her posse were right up front. Once they repositioned themselves it was more comfortable and Susan's Guinness sodden conversational ability was given some elbow room.

Since this was a neighborhood bar, specifically in Susan's neighborhood, there was always the chance that Mr. & Mrs. Drunk may stumble in. Other than waving from across the street Susan does not like to promote any unnecessary interaction between herself and The Drunks. They aren't bad people, just not anyone she wants finding their way up to her front door.

The evening was low key and friendly but Susan doesn't really know what to do with herself in a bar anymore. She's not a dancer and there's only so much she can drink before it becomes counter productive. The group was winding down when Susan spied Mr. Drunk twenty feet in front of her. She immediately brought this to Little Sister's attention and within ten seconds found herself shoved out the front door and onto the street along with the rest of her collective.

This portion of the evening was over. Fifty percent went along with Susan for coffee and tea, the other fifty went home.

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