One day I walked in and could tell that Larry and
Roxie had been occupying their posts at the end of
the bar for the majority of the day. A lot of the
customers come in as soon as they leave work and
don't leave until way into the evening, often
ordering pizza from next door to tide them over
while they demolished most of a case of beer,
often without any visible effects on their
affects. Not this time. Roxie was slurring her
speech so bad she sounded like a crackhead. She
was nodding off into her beer, and when she got up
to play darts, she was throwing toward the wall,
but nowhere in the vicinity of the dartboard.
Roxie was a dart league champ.
You okay, Roxie?
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