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# Eyes Across the Stage
I wasn't supposed to be there that night. My buddy Jake had bailed on our usual Friday plans, something about his kid's fever, and instead of doing the sensible thing and staying home, I found myself alone at a corner table in a strip club I'd only been to once before, nursing a whiskey I didn't really need. I'm not the type who goes to these places solo. I'm the type who sits too far from the stage and tips awkwardly, like I'm apologizing for being there.