Chicago is a city known for blues, and Kingston Mines is the largest and most well known blues club in this fine town. It is also the very place where I dedicated 2 years of my life to the delicate art of cocktail waitressing until being fired for political reasons. The Mines feataures 2 live bands 7 nights a week who take turns playing hour sets into the wee wee hours of the morn. It has unaffectionately been known as "the plantation" by the hordes of black musicians who have played there. Surprisingly, this term was born even before the decrepid owner had a painfully large painting of sharecroppers in a cotton field plastered across the club's biggest wall. I'm not kidding. Kingston Mines is also a place I had full intentions of dropping a bomb on these past few months. Luckily these dangerous plans have since been vanquished, due to a deservedly large sum of money recently awarded to me by the unemployment office and paid in one deliciously large chunk by the Mines, despite their pathetic but lengthy attempts to appeal the decision. Heh.

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