Dana Fuchs mused in between songs, “does anyone know someone—“
“Yes,” a man in the audience cut her off loud enough for everyone to hear.
Dana paused. She broke out into a fit of laughter. Of course everyone knows at least one other person. She gave her bandmates crap for allowing her to make the joke.
She crouched down on the edge of the stage, trying to tell an intimate story. Each time she started to get serious, she remembered the absurd, simplistic brilliance of the joke and started laughing again.
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