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The VIP room

No, it’s not for VIPs, although they’re allowed. {if they can find it.}
Saturday, April 21, 2007 | 12:00 a.m. CDT; updated 4:35 a.m. CDT, Sunday, July 20, 2008

Good luck getting into Quinton’s Bar & Deli. It’s 11 p.m., and the Friday night lineup has already begun, as hopeful party animals queue for a chance to get into the packed establishment. One might not recognize him with his slight frame and bookish spectacles, but that’s Quinton’s manager John Pizzitola darting out the buzzing bar’s front entrance. He hits the Ninth Street sidewalk, heading north with a fleet-footed sense of purpose. Pizzitola passes the darkened entrance to Tonic, the club he also manages, giving a nod to a haggard old gentleman on a nearby bench as he goes. His stride carries him past the blaring sound of John Henry & the Engine’s set at the Blue Fugue and through the mingling crowds accumulated outside the venue. His brisk march doesn’t slacken. He’s got somewhere he needs to be.

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