Yesterday, five of us walked over to Steakhouse 85 for pub night—but there were only four seats around the corner of the bar, so Alec asked the slightly older-than-us gentleman sitting alone eating his oysters and salad if he wouldn't mind moving over one stool so we could sit together, and the slightly older-than-us gentleman graciously agreed to move over, and then Alec pushed the matter and said, "And then in a minute or so, we'll all be great friends," and the gentleman took a look at us and said, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
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