The bar was crammed in between the dry cleaners and her favorite Mexican place, and Julie wondered why it had taken her so long to notice it.
It was a small dimly lit bar, with a few booths, a pool table, and a stage. The bartender had waved at her when she stepped in and she suddenly felt like she was back in Dillon.
It was dimly lit, and the smell of greasy food made her stomach grumble. She ran her hand across the smooth dark wood of the bar and watched the bartender prepare a drink.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked kindly and Julie looked over the collection of bottles behind him. She grabbed a menu from the counter and took a seat glancing over it before responding.
“Could I have the Irish fries, hold the meat please. ” she asked tentatively, chewing on her lip.
The bartender nodded and yelled her order over his shoulder to the kitchen before turning back and asking her what drink she wanted. Julie grinned, looking at the beers they had on tap.
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