She walked around the plaza, looking at buildings. It was freezing cold. She needed a hot shower. Her watch, a skinny gold Seiko given to her by her boss, said 3:06 a.m. There wouldn't be a bus around for another two, maybe three hours. She sat on a square planter, still dizzy from her whiskey sours. The concrete scratched her butt because there was a hole in her panties. Good thing they were from Wal-mart, not Victoria's Secret. She was using this trip to party instead of lobby, and her boss wouldn't be pleased, but goddammit, she was having fun.
The Village Stompers - Washington Square (LP)
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