My legs ache and my feet throb from having been walking around all day, but there’s still a long stretch of Flatbush Avenue to traverse before I can rest my bones.
When I walk past the bar on the corner, there’s a line outside - at 5:30 PM; on a Sunday. Okay, maybe something’s on TV, some kind of sports event or whatever, but that’s not what gives me pause.
At the door, the bouncer is giving each person who enters the bar a full and thorough putdown, checking for weapons, and really getting up in there on every person, and while I’m trying not to stare as I trudge by, I can help thinking: at 5:30 PM, on a Sunday.
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