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Went to Storyteller Cafe tonight.

Didn't dance, but I watched the last half-hour of a Lindy Hop lesson on the crowded dance floor. I read a little beneath an eerie green lamp and a few of what appeared to be electric candles. I enjoyed some live jazz music, and a beer.

I left early enough that I could use my transfer to ride back for free. That's why I didn't go back for the cell phone I'd left there, when I was already at the bus stop. I wasn't worried, much. I'd taken one of those local weeklies with all the bar and club ads, and looked up the Storyteller in it, and called from a pay phone. I'll have to pick it up later.

Because I was listening to my MP3 player, I missed the beginning of a strange conversation between a Somali woman and two American homeboy-types, and as I was walking home, I didn't realize there was a man with a guitar playing atop the telephone switch box outside my apartment complex. I missed all that in order to listen to the same Alice Cooper song I'd heard thousands of times before, performed exactly the same way. This stood out even more after I'd listened to some live music, and left early, without my cell phone, in order to save $1.25, or 75ยข after the phone call.

Regardless, I lived my life slightly fuller than if I'd just stayed home. And I have another opportunity to go to Storyteller Cafe and perhaps try the food.
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