Feeding Frenzy

On Saturday afternoon, Millennium Music was buzzing. They were celebrating a bittersweet moment as they prepared to close their doors permanently. It was hot outside, and I, too, had a good buzz going on. The farmers’ market in Marion Square had just wrapped up, so people were pouring into Millennium like ants to a picnic. And those ants went straight for the free beer. Up on stage, Kentucky Shoes mesmerized the crowd, while I weaved in and out of the throngs of people, clutching my beer. That’s when I noticed them: a pack of über-tanned, dirty-looking guys who appeared to be homeless. (Sniff. Sniff. Was that urine I smelled?) It’s nice to escape the afternoon heat of a Charleston summer by cooling off inside in the A/C, eating free burgers from Sesame, and nursing a frosty beverage. I know. We were in the same boat, and in my case at least, I was recovering from a hangover; perhaps they were too. I watched them as they tried to blend in with the crowd. But as soon as the burgers came out, these ants turned into piranhas, snapping up the sandwiches, tripping over their own legs, and smiling as they basked in the glow of their good fortune.

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