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Click hereShe's sitting at the end of the bar.
It's one of those self conversations.
The kind we all have from time to time.
Johnnie Walker hides reservations.
He walks up twenty pounds over weight.
Closing time, scotch makes him thinner.
She doesn't notice cheap cigar smoke.
Reservations gone, he's a winner.
Up in the room Johnnies still working.
Is he the one? He must be, but...
....then.
It's out, it's up, it's in, it's over.
....again......
Johnnie Walker ain't your friend.
Thanks Pinkhead/Sandspike for a delightfully, twisted spin on closing time. I'm the girl with stars in her eyes at the end of the bar wearing red. The next J.W. is on me.