I would be running around Kingston Mines with a tray full of liquor, deftly dodging the hundreds of people crowding the aisles, taking a stolen moment here and there to do a shot with one of my admirers and accept the $10 bill he slides into my pocket. Within this time frame I could easily down 9 or 10 shots of cuervo. I would be getting sloshed but make the majority of my cash for the evening, regardless.

Billy Branch and the Chi-Town Hustlers throw down with the best, most hard hitting sets they save for the late night crowd. Mike Dangeroux starts pulling out all his erotic shit; he shreds his guitar with his tongue and looks suggestively at the fat women in the front tables, they swoon and fill his tip jar to the bursting point.
The business men in town for conventions and enjoying themselves on their company credit card accounts have thrown all caution to the wind by this time, falling down drunk in the aisles but still demanding one more long island. Suckers, don't think I'm flirting with you because I'm actually interested, you're paying my god damn rent in one night.

Once 2:00 rolls around, all the industry people come filing in. They knowingly fill the spots at the bars and the back of the sections where their good friends are working and share stories of the work night amidst the chaos. More free shots for me, more schmoozing, more money. Bargain Bill and his hookers are in the back of the north room, working it. Leroy Brown is seated at the head of his usual dark booth, making on a killing sellin packets of coke to his legions of loyal custies.

MC Frank belts out his final announcements and everyone makes one more mad, frantic attempt to get one more order in. I purposely focus on only the customers I happen to like; I have already made enough money for one night. At the stroke of 4:00 it all ends, and 4:01 can find us sitting at the main bar as Nancy wipes it down, exhausted and pleased with our pull for the evening, although we may feign exasperation.

I used to think that virtually no one else was awake during this time. It turned out that wasn't true; the people that were asleep were the honest people I wouldn't mind being awake; those prowling about are rarely up to good.

I decided this a few weeks ago when I was sitting on the porch at 1 a.m. with the porch light off.

A few houses down a figure dressed in dark clothing was pacing about near a car. A couple times they went across the street, did something at a car there and returned. I couldn't see what they were doing in the dark- no matter how suspicious they seemed- so I stopped paying attention out of boredom after a few minutes.

I looked back when I heard their car start. They drove in my direction very slowly and completely stopped right in front of my house. I could see into their car when they turned on a light; they were holding a gps in their hand, it'd just been turned on. Their face was revealed as well: a skinny white man, probably 20-25 years old.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the gps he rolled the car slowly away. It was at that point it dawned on me if he had just stolen the gps I should get the license plate number so I walked closer to get a better look. He turned a corner and was gone before I could read the whole thing.

Between this and the drunk kids that keep me awake I really prefer the company of day walkers.

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