Did I feel a little cool when I checked in at Manhattan's underground Ping-Pong venue and bar called SPiN New York and wrote "Crazy place, ping pong balls flying everywhere, hitting me while I drink beer and blog"? Yeah, I did. Was I aware of what I was doing the next weekend when I checked into two mid-century modern furniture stores in a row? Yes, throw me to the type of piranhas that eat people like me! I was aware of what I was doing.
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