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September 22, 2010
The tiki bar was starting to make me uncomfortable.

I tried to share the pretzels with the other guys at the bar, but they just gave me scornful looks and muttered among themselves.

The bar got darker and the ukulele music grew louder and the eyes of the tiki statues began to glow.

I guessed it was time for me to get out. Besides, the thought of staying to watch those sad men sit around a little pig, silently picking at it, was more than I could handle.

I walked outside, clutching the bag of pretzels, and hailed a cab.