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September 15, 2002
Tugging her scruffy blue portemonnaie out of her bag, she shuffles through the few bills and comes to the bitter realization that her cash won’t be enough for another beer. “Sorry,” she mutters embarrassedly to the bartender, “I’ve only got three dollars on me. Thanks anyway.” A biting sense of self-loathing attaches itself to the back of her neck as she slides off the barstool. Just wanted a couple of beers, just wanted to unwind, nothing wrong with that. Once out in the night air, looking across the river at the city, she felt energized and desolate all at once.