New York on a rain-filled fall night is not a pleasant place to be. This was beyond rainy. it was torrential. In desperation to get to shelter, I dashed into a doorway of a bar across the street. The place was empty, with the exception of a solitary barman reading a book at the bar. I whipped the rain from my hair and face and sat on a barstool. "What'll be your pleasure?" the barkeep asked
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