In light of the passing of John Hughes, the Anthony Michael Hall oeuvre has been at the fore. It reminded me of--what was it, 1991? 1992? It was definitely before I ever had a real job.
I was a bartender at Terra Blues, a club on Bleecker St. in New York. Mr. Hall--Mike, as he was introduced--had come in. This wasn't geeky, cute Anthony Michael Hall, screaming "Jake!" underneath a glass coffee table. This was a sort of 'roided, mature "I'm the dick in _Edward Scissorhands"_ Anthony Michael Hall.
Mike was friends with one of the guitar players.
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