"Things were pretty lively last spring, but after the nomination and the Eagleton affair were botched, enthusiasm fell."
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“Uh ... kinda crowded tonight, huh?” he pressed. “Not really. Usually more people than this.” It was already too late; he had committed himself. “Look. You wanna dance again?” “No thanks. Excuse me. I see a friend.”
The jukebox switched to “Funkier Than A Mosquiter’s Tweeter” and most of the people at the bar started mouthing the words. One man shooting pool almost hit our soups with his cue. Someone in the room screamed.