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February 5, 2007
It took a half hour to park the car. Once we walked into the club everything felt right. Dirk was off in some corner hugging on a skinny boy with a Mohawk while I stirred the ice of my Vodka tonic, sitting at the bar. Five bucks down the flusher. He came back with the Mohawk’s phone number and we talked a bit. Shortly after I ordered my second drink he was off again, buttering up a knot-head in a polo shift, another five bucks gone. After a third drink and still no talking with Dirk I was getting annoyed.