The Avenue

Savannah: Part IV

I smoked a bowl above the spiral staircase with a flock of radical fairies. I snorted a line in the bathroom with a man whose face was half painted in exaggerated female make-up and half left au naturale. I found drinks left on tables and finished them when nobody was looking. It was that sort of evening, bumming around and ingesting as many substances as were available.
With a kiss and a suggestion, anything was available from anyone without so much as a dime in exchange. It was that sort of evening in that type of locale.

Pete was quite content with his Jack and Coke, and though I could not understand his contentment, I had to be glad he was no longer in the way. He had a way of deeply offending anyone whose company I was enjoying. He did the same thing to Dave, and it was beginning to get very old. Dave had nearly hustled us a place to stay with a pair of gorgeous lesbians when Pete came along and started hitting on one of them. With the third wheel involved, the deal was off, and it was quite unfortunate.
It appeared the evening would be spent in the park, but I was glad for it. This beautiful night could be spent well in the still darkness of Forsyth Park.

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