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July 11, 2009
I stopped at a gas station to get a pack of smokes. It was one of those places with everything in it, complete with a dry cleaner, food court and post office. The Shins, Phantom Limb, was playing over the loudspeakers. Stu's place was a few blocks away. His apartment smelled fresh, with a hint of cologne. I'll be out in a minute, he said. I heard the razor in the bathroom. Not a minute later, he finished. His scalp glistened and he complained about the mess when there wasn't one. Ready to go?.