After the breakfast, I tell the good news to Zach.
While he's glad that the girls are finally out of the woods, he recommends that we shouldn't perform yet.
I understand. No over-straining and all that.
So when night falls, the bar is just treated to some country music on some vinyl records that are being played on the stage.
This is a good thing, as we might discover some hidden gems.
And it turns out… those records are from Dax.
So naturally, we ask him the question.
He has a ready answer.
"Oh, those records? Got them from my uncle. He plans to downsize and move into a smaller unit, so he's getting rid of them."
Good.
After a scrumptious dinner consisting of sizzling T-bone steak meals, we're not in the mood to go home yet.
We then overhear a conversation from a nearby table.
"I'm a known multimillionaire in my friend group; and from this day forward, I won't let those welfare cretins borrow even a single cent from me.
