When the Hole in the Wall was next door, a man got shot in the leg and died. I gave poetry readings, and witnessed a beating on the corner of Laurel and Broad. We had to drive from one end of the block to the other for a pack of cigarettes.
What is most amazing is that the people are exactly the same. I realize that the ones I knew almost 10 years ago have gotten older. But when they did, a younger generation slid into their places and took over their habits. Maybe they were snakes, sliding out of their dusty skins.
Two doors down from Ipanema was The Red Light, a strip club I got thrown out of twice for demonstrating to friends how to tuck a dollar bill into a dancer’s g-string. Across the street was the porn cinema, which is now a VCU theater. Ipanema gets started later on in the evening, so right now, there are only three other people at the bar when I sit down.

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