The gift card

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A few months ago, some co-workers and I went to Happy Hour* at a bar called Stadium. We hung out, we chatted, we ordered some drinks, and all was well.

*Massachusetts actually implemented a state-wide ban on Happy Hour in 1984 that still stands today. The idea was that by eliminating promotions with special low-priced alcoholic drinks, there would be fewer incidents of drunken driving. So Happy Hour is technically illegal here, but no one really follows that.

About an hour after we arrived, some dude walked into the bar, pounded fists with the owner, and set up a game of Team Jeopardy in the back. We signed up. There were maybe ten teams, and we didn’t think we’d win or anything, but at the least it would be fun and something to do.

Well, we dominated. Turns out, we’re really smart and know a lot of things!

After the victory, the guy that was running Jeopardy set up a prize table and was basically like, “Uh, yeah, you can take whatever you want.” I cleaned up. I got a shirt, a hat, some gloves, and a $50 gift card.

A week later, I went back to Stadium, happy as a clam and prepared to buy the whole city of Boston a beverage with my new, shiny gift card.

The bar was boarded up. It was totally empty. There was a sign on the door. They went out of business. And now I have a stupid, pointless gift card sitting in my wallet.

Rodeon.

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