Some months ago I swore I'd...

Some months ago I swore I'd never come back here. But in the neighborhood, late afternoon/early evening drive time, I'm passing and I figure, what the hell? -- so I go in.

This is a dying club. I'd have cleverly written something like "put a fork in it," but there's actually nothing here I want to eat. A few bored, aging dancers standing around. I didn't see the famed 3-for-30 sign, but I didn't see anyone I'd want to go 1-for-anything with, either. Given the lack of customers, it still took 10 minutes for anyone to sell me a drink. The beer, at least, was cold. I drank it and watched an oversized, fake-tit-and-hair twitch next to the pole. She kept shoving her ass in my direction. Thank you, but it was already too close, and hard not to miss. I gave her a couple of sympathy singles because it seemed the polite thing to do, but truth is, I should have offered thirty bucks for her to put her clothes on.

Flee. I did.