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He
drank
slowly
this
time
,
letting
it
trickle
down
his
throat
,
tossing
a
few
peanuts
down
the
chute
for
good
luck
.
The
drink
was
gone
in
no
time
,
and
he
ordered
another
.
Mr
.
President
,
I
have
met
the
martians
and
am
pleased
to
report
they
are
friendly
.
While
Lloyd
fixed
another
,
he
began
searching
his
pockets
for
a
quarter
to
put
in
the
jukebox
.
He
thought
of
Danny
again
,
but
Danny
s
face
was
pleasantly
fuzzed
and
nondescript
now
.
He
had
hurt
Danny
once
,
but
that
had
been
before
he
had
learned
how
to
handle
his
liquor
.
Those
days
were
behind
him
now
.
He
would
never
hurt
Danny
again
.
Not
for
the
world
.
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He
was
dancing
with
a
beautiful
woman
.
He
had
no
idea
what
time
it
was
,
how
long
he
had
spent
in
the
Colorado
Lounge
or
how
long
he
had
been
here
in
the
ballroom
.
Time
had
ceased
to
matter
.
He
had
vague
memories
:
listening
to
a
man
who
had
once
been
a
successful
radio
comic
and
then
a
variety
star
in
TV
,
infant
days
telling
a
very
long
and
very
hilarious
joke
about
incest
between
Siamese
twins
;
seeing
the
woman
in
the
harem
pants
and
the
sequined
bra
do
a
slow
and
sinuous
striptease
to
some
bumping
-
andgrinding
music
from
the
jukebox
(
it
seemed
it
had
been
David
Rose
s
theme
music
from
The
Stripper
)
;
crossing
the
lobby
as
one
of
three
,
the
other
two
men
in
evening
dress
that
predated
the
twenties
,
all
of
them
singing
about
the
stiff
patch
on
Rosie
O
Grady
s
knickers
.
He
seemed
to
remember
looking
out
the
big
double
doors
and
seeing
Japanese
lanterns
strung
in
graceful
,
curving
arcs
that
followed
the
sweep
of
the
driveway
-
they
gleamed
in
soft
pastel
colors
like
dusky
jewels
.
The
big
glass
globe
on
the
porch
ceiling
was
on
,
and
night
-
insects
bumped
and
flittered
against
it
,
and
a
part
of
him
,
perhaps
the
last
tiny
spark
of
sobriety
,
tried
to
tell
him
that
it
was
6
A
.
M
.
on
a
morning
in
December
.
But
time
had
been
canceled
.
(
The
arguments
against
insanity
fall
through
with
a
soft
shurring
sound
/
layer
on
layer
)
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Who
was
that
?
Some
poet
he
had
read
as
an
undergraduate
?
Some
undergraduate
poet
who
was
now
selling
washers
in
Wausau
or
insurance
in
Indianapolis
?
Perhaps
an
original
thought
?
Didn
t
matter
.
(
The
night
is
dark
/
the
stars
are
high
/
a
disembodied
custard
piel
is
floating
in
the
sky
)
He
giggled
helplessly
.