Emerging from the curve off of exit 3, I noticed a silhouette of buildings to my right with bright captivating neon signs. Curiosity gripped me and investigating I made the naked realization I was in the alluring naughty zone of East St. Louis. Temptation oozed and encircled me, morality weakened by the second.
More temptation bombarded me, seizing me with an iron grip. In the distance, amongst the neon signs and the shadowy silhouettes, I spotted cavernous BBQ smokers dotting the parking lots. Generously rotund gentlemen manned them, working their craft with profound authority. Soft cloud puffs of smoke rose in the crisp cool nighttime air while the scintillating scent of sweet barbeque invaded the senses. I had no will power to resist anything.
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