Bottles of Patrón, Stoli, Cîroc, and Hennessey line the floor-to-ceiling shelves of Mac Klein's closet-sized office in the back of the sticky floor and smoky room of Mac's Club Deuce.
Somewhere in between a wooden desk and a stack of books, newspaper clippings, and portraits of a handsome 20-something-year-old Klein in a World War II military uniform, was a cushioned leather seat and an orange case of liquor.
"Pick a chair," Klein chivalrously offered.
As I squeezed my way toward the bottles, Klein began talking about his upcoming birthday September 19.
"You don't run the Deuce looking 99," he laughed.
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