The Prodigal Son with Harlots

The bar is beginning to pick up. The music is starting to sound better and the terrible drinks are tasting less terrible (I wonder if those two things have anything to do with each other?). We've made some new friends. We crowd ourselves at a dimly lit corner table to continue our conversations and revel in the beauty of genuine human connection. Surely, the friendships formed with people we met in a loud, overcrowded bar after several drinks will last a lifetime.