You begin this story on the last night of normalcy in Drew Jett’s life. That is not to say that he did not, prior to this evening, have quirky happenstances and tragedies. However, the scope of what was to come would change his life more than a death that occurred no less than a year ago. As in keeping with this last night of normalcy, he was in the same bar that he came too every night after he left work. Tommy’s Lounge was a surprisingly upbeat hole in the wall for the company it kept. Drew was very little different from any other man in this bar. In one way or another, they had all lost something dear to them and sought solace in the continual battering of their livers. There were no depression-era croonings coming from the juke box, but popular studio bands and actors that gave a shot at singing careers. It was as if the men there did not want real ballads, because that might destroy their sense of surreality that fogged them within the lounge. ‘It’ll be alright’ was practically the motto of this bar, and for the time that patrons remained, they could partake in the cheery music and atmosphere as if they actually felt such joy.