Personal Narrative: Dwight Howard's Restaurant

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Close enough to smell Dwight Howard’s BO. The description of our seats was enough to light up any sports fan's Christmas. My uncle had scored 4 tickets to the Lexus Courtside Club for the next Timberwolves game and I was going. My dad flipped his keys to the sharply dressed valet as if he’d done it a million times before. Although his 2004 Volvo in a line of BMWs, Lexus’, and Mercedes’ said otherwise. We entered a five star dining center, flashed our Lexus Club wristbands, and walked in as if we owned the place. I immediately felt underdressed in my khaki pants and Timberwolves shirt as many of the men there wore ties and some freshly pressed suit coates. The restaurant was dimly lit with black everything: black chairs, black tablecloths,
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