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You see that guy three seats down? Yeah, that guy. The one with the beanie. Never a good sign, beanies. Look at him, sitting there, head in his hands, cigarette wasting away unsmoked. Christ.
He's the sorta guy I don't like. It's -his- fault, indirectly, that people think of gloomy melancholy whenever they think of smoke-filled bars. They think of drinking away your sorrows and trying to forget the past. What the hell would even be the -point- of having bars if they were just full of gloomy introverts smoking and drinking? No, people like that guy who come here to drink, smoke and be introspective are the minority. Most of us are, you know, sensible people, here for sensible reasons.
I come here to people-watch.
It's a habit I picked up last year, and since then I've analyzed dozens of people over the rim of a shot glass, and found most of them wanting. Bikers, for example, and their white-trash hangers on frequent the corners, ordering some too many pints, looking down on other liquor