Great Expectations


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Despite all that had happened, there we sat: drunk, dumb, battered but not beaten, and armed with little more than high hopes and low-grade pharmaceuticals.  Mike smiled his “Tonight, anything can happen” smile and I knew the little white pills were taking over.  It was time to make our move.

Continue to: Chapter 2: “Tanya”

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There was, however, the unfortunate matter of our tab – which, after at least an hour in “The Champaign Room,” was not likely to be insubstantial, and which was made additionally problematic by the fact that Mike and I did not have twenty bucks between us.  That’s how we met Tanya.

Continued from: Chapter 1: “Great Expectations”

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