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Seattle Nightlife Report: Pony

Mid-winter Friday night. Early but already so dark. The days are getting longer but 6 PM is still pitch black. “Firepit!” You declare things after just a few seconds of solemn thought – not a request or suggestion, not a demand. Last week you walked around saying, “Hot tub?” to anyone who would listen. Or one afternoon you pointed at two men holding hands as they crossed 12th Avenue, looked me in the eyes and said, “Boyfriends.”