They’ll be looking for you
The undead are a persistent bunch, you know. I spent last week leaving increasingly desperate messages on the voicemail of the guy who approves or denies events booked for Beale Street (it’s a private street, you know, not public, so you can’t just do what you want there without filling out paperwork), thinking he was avoiding me after last year’s round of last-minute awkward runaround phone tag that nearly meant we didn’t get a permit.…
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