It was years ago and the mores of the Eisenhower years were dropping away. Topless dancing was the latest thing. There was now a new hip Youngstud in the White House. I had entered a bar on a sketchy street in a shady ---actually scary area of Capitol City. There was an extremely fat black woman with her huge naked breasts laying on surface of a black formica table shiny wet with spilled beer. She was very drunk but not as drunk as I wanted to be. No one else in the place but a singer on a runway that extended out into the middle of the large room. She had black hair and she was absolutely a class above everything else in the room, including me. I could not to this day say what she was wearing, except it may have been blue. I could only stare at her face and try to look blasé. She looked right into my eyes and sang “Forever Young”
I turned and walked out into the humid night. Another face in the train window. Who knows how my life would have been had I stayed?
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