Homecoming #2

7 05 2006

My new definition for home town: a place where you can go out with only the spare change in your pocket.

You don’t need ID because you know the bouncer. You don’t need money because you know the bar manager. You don’t need your mobile because there’s no reception for your crappy down-south carrier. You don’t even need taxi money because you know people going in your direction at the end of the night.

The spare change is for the down-on-his-luck busker on the corner playing Pearl Jam covers. You know him too.

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