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August 16th, 2020 6:45pm The Eclectic Brandon sat with the heels of his leather shoes propped up on the metal rod that ran the distance of the bar and and glanced around at the relatively empty establishment known as The Eclectic. It was small Bar in Middletown that had caught his attention. Just as the name indicated the establishment was put together from the remains of several pubs and breweries scavenged after the events of the last ten years. Pictures lined the wall of happier times taken from the ruins of watering holes that had fallen victim to the calamities that had stricken the city and it’s burbs as well as the world. On one of the wall was even a dart board used to hold up a few frameless photos of patrons pinned in place by the darts acting as tacks. The chairs and tables were a mix and match variety all made to fit together with a little paint and care to bring the community back from the clutches of disaster. Painted on the Marque under it’s unusual name were the words, “Spirits Lifted and Hearts Fed Here.” Even the bar stools were a mix of designs and colors as they lined up around the smooth counter. The light fixtures were just as eclectic as the rest of the place and somehow it all looked as if it belonged just the way it was. “Here you go Brandon,” the man behind the raised counter said with a cheerful tone, “one Lager of the Lakes off tap.” He chuckled, “you order something different every time you go somewhere don’t you?” The Yale graduate chuckled and nodded his assent, “my taste is as eclectic as your bar.” He shifted slightly as he checked to make sure his black backpack was still right where he left in, on the floor in front of the stool. Brandon’s hazel eyes danced as he looked at the light amber offering as it sat atop a simple white paper napkin with the word Eclectic printed in large bold letters. The man looked back at the the bar tender and raised an eyebrow, “you chill your lager in storage don’t you?” For a moment the man looked puzzled as his eyes widened, “and how did you know that.” He shook his head still leaving what remained of his blonde hair that had not fallen prey to his male pattern baldness, “we stored it in the ice box freezer because we didn’t have enough room in the cellar for it.