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Packard Ballroom Four was around the back of the hotel, on the other side of the restrooms and the pool, down a long hall with a glass wall overlooking the crumbling concrete trench of the Lodge Freeway. A laser-printed page taped to the door listed the Friday schedule, with the word CANCELED printed next to the seven PM time slot, but Dale heard a few different simultaneous conversations through the cracked door, so he peered through.
The airless room had enough space for maybe forty very friendly people. The beige room divider that sequestered this space from the rest of the ballroom made the room feel too narrow and too tall. Unlike the Willow Inn’s deliberately impressive lobby, this weirdly shaped meeting room immediately felt comfortably familiar to Dale. He’d attended many busi
