又到了作弊的时候了,等等。

This story has gone on too long; I need to get past it.

George and I go to Rudolfa. He sees a young, femmy guy at a table, who’s a bartender from Pinocchio. His hair’s elaborately gelled and I swear I remember a hair clip of some kind but that’s probably just me being catty. He’s wearing faded hip-huggers and a short shirt that shows his midriff. His shoes are white sandals.

I . . .

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