Miles laughed as he pushed open the door, leading Sarah inside. Built into what appeared to have been the abandoned building, the Tavern was dingy and faintly redolent of mildewed wood, but surprisingly large. Four pool tables stood in the rear beneath glowing lamps that advertised different beers; a long bar ran along the far wall. An old-fashioned jukebox flanked the doorway, and a dozen tables were spread haphazardly throughout. The floor was concrete and the wooden chairs were mismatched, but that didnt seem to matter. It was packed.
People thronged the bar and tables; crowds formed and dispersed around the pool tables. Two women, wearing a little too much makeup, leaned against the jukebox, their tightly clad bodies swaying in rhythm as they read through the titles, figuring out what they wanted to play next.
Miles looked at her, amused. Surprising, isnt it?
I wouldnt have believed it unless Id seen it. Its so crowded. It is every weekend. He scanned the room quickly, looking for someplace to sit.
Therere some seats in the back . . . , she offered.
