Riffing on Frank O'Hara's "The Day Lady Died"

So she had on a blue silk dress that I never liked and I wore some vest from a secondhand store and the steakhouse downtown had dollar PBRs so of course, cheers, we swigged them down with some Marlboros and jaywalked over to Plates which is by all means the most fraternal of all the bars if you know what I mean and the bartender with the lowcut shirt and the tits gave me a wink and made her drink double stout than mine and I tipped her five bucks for the trouble but after a few of those the scenery became stale so on the balcony she met a friend or two or three, I can't recall, and bet them she wouldn't jump off the balcony and of course she lost. She's so good at that. More jaywalking, it is now Sunday, things will shut down, flicker, and down on Lovvorn there's a shindig in Mandeville with a banjo or two and we'll sing My Darling Clementine like it's 1999 and we'll do what we do until the moon fades and I can't think straight. Where do we do these things where