Jasper was a flimflam man whose most popular health tonic, which he personally consumed in large quantities, was nothing more than booze and morphine with beet juice for color.

 The drive-in, like Dave who had once worked there, was in disrepair, and was a constant reminder of how much time had passed since they were both pristine. 

With bated breath they waited every week only to have their million dollar dreams dashed when their numbers didn't come up.

She danced on the table while he stumbled around the restaurant singing Sinatra tunes.

The wine was bad, the service worse and the conversational skills of his date deplorable.

Trent stopped listening to classic rock stations when the music of his generation made the cut.

The scream woke her and for several confused seconds she wondered from whom it was coming until she closed her mouth.