Tonight’s adventure into the night is inspired by a promised soul salvation that runs on sleep deprivation and a long, caffeine-induced day. Luckily for me, the gospel of St. Paul & The Broken Bones is ahead and my spirit rises to the occasion through the consumption of Este’s gorgeously greasy pizza. All that is missing is a pint of something with a bite and I’ll be set. This is soon rectified upon waltzing through a packed house and straight to the bar. Taking a deep sip from my plastic grail and looking around, I am aware that I am not quite in Kansas anymore. The audience represents a crowd that I am not usually too acquainted with. They all seem to be young(ish) professional types that carry no definitive edge in their appearance. Meaning there is a lack of leather and denim that is replaced with a visual abundance of folks in nice blazers and formal attire…..
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