Where did this occur?

I wake up with a startling thump - on the floor - How did i get here? its early - not quite time to wake up - the comfortable room laughs only because it is not accustomed to this type of buffoonery - not drunk - just on the fucking floor. i am told later that i has asked something about the time - attempting to peer past the lamp and clutter of the bedside table proved to be too much for my center of gravity at this foggy hour of the morning. The smoot - old vaudeville house - pictures of the first showing of Frankenstein circa 1932 - ringling brothers - kong - all badges of honor to an era when this town was forgotten - left to its own devices, but loved in its yellowed pages and model T sort of way. almost as though the collective conciousness is the history of the town itself. The smoot still smells of the corwd from those old tymey days - the stage is small, perfect for juggling dogs and siamese twin acts. double tiered house all red seats and dark wood. too steep for modern crowds, the balcony seems as though its merely for show. bitter cold - most of load in i am unable to feel any sensation in my fingers - i learn that my locals are former drug addicts living at a nearby halfway house, so really current drug addics who havent been doing any drugs recently - all hard working folk from local towns who passesd the time of teenage angst by doing eightballs of coke and making meth instead of treehouses - not bad people, just wasted. Simple wooden chair leaning on tree - out of breath, an old man who sits and watches the bird and wood and snow - missing piecess with every pock and crack a story or year that passed by too quickly,. but now plays in elegant prose across the pages of his mind and the delicate nature of his arms and legs.