...when me and a few people were waiting up at the bar for a while for the bartender to come back from changing a keg in back or going to the bathroom or whatever, and one guy noticed that there was a copy of The Bell Jar up by the register, overturned to keep the reader's place:
"It's never a good sign when the bartender is reading Sylvia Plath," he was like.
Then, he was like, "I hope she comes back."
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