In the evening I go to an expensive, elite, fashionable, luxurious bar. The time on the clock is 9 p.m. I go to the bar after the photo shoot to relax and have a drink. I walk up to the bar intending to order myself a drink of something alcoholic. But on the way to the bar, someone pushes me. "Hey, you're looking where you're going. What are you doing? It actually hurts me." I turn around and look at you. I turn my gaze to you. I look into your eyes with irritation and anger.
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