You can't go home again.

This is sort of Scort's local bar, called big shots. It's way sketchier than anything up here in Portland, at least in my sheltered existence. They do have lots of pool tables though, and a few full sizers to boot. The pool is 75c though, so I guess you pay for not having to wait. This night we also discovered a place even closer to his house though, called like the finish line or the goal post or something, where the pool tables were shabbier, the drinks were ridiculously cheap, and the jukebox was downloading all these Outkast songs at a buck a piece. It was much more desolate though, so I doubt we found Scort a new local place.

We also hoofed it around Salem in the night. It was pretty fun.

We went under this place that was ridiculously dark. Scott made a power move to try to get some candles up in there.

They have a bins there too. I found a coffee pot that Scort had been needing (his broke), and it was a perfect match to what he needed! Score at the bins! We also bought many books, 50c for the paper backs, 1$ for the hard-covers. I bought some non-fiction and some fiction, as did Scott. I almost bought a leather trench coat, but it was a women's size small or something. I was straight out of the matrix! Anyhow, we got home and Scott tried to wash the grubby bins out of his new pot and the damn thing broke right then!

Ppppppppp power moves! We needed cell phone lights under this place we were walking, and I couldn't find mine. I thought it probably slipped out of my pocket in the cab ride to get down-town, so Scort tried tracking it down. Eventually he got a hold of our driver, but she was weird and couldn't find it. Once we got home, late in the night, we found the phone deep in Scott's sole piece of furniture, his leather recliner. Adventure today indeed!

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