He opened the door and walked back into the room carrying a box."I hate to tell you this lady but there's about ten inches of snow out there and it's coming down as hard as ever. It looks like we might get eighteen inches or more."Bob sat the box down on the counter in the kitchen area, "I almost forgot this. I meant to take it out of the car before I came up here. I hope it didn't start to freeze."He saw the questioning look on her face, "It's a case of French wine. A Saudi Prince gave it to me to thank me for saving his life. I sold him the car that survived a terrorist attack. The wine is supposed to cost three hundred dollars a bottle."Bob took off his coat and shook the snow off of it and hung it up. The top of the case of wine was open and he pulled a bottle out and started to read the label. He turned and brought the bottle to Ann and handed it to her. She took the bottle and looked at the label. The label made little sense to her, as she couldn't even be classed a social. I'd rather chill at a bar and have a few good beers and few more good laughs. But, hey, time with you is still time with you.I pull up and I'm greeted by what looks like an old warehouse sitting in the middle of what's been turned into a large parking lot. The lot is nearly full. That's a good sign, I think to myself. I park, make my way to the entrance, and pay the cover fee after a short wait in line.Just inside the door, I find myself in a small hallway. The heavy bass and stench of sweat and smoke hit me. There's an energy in the air as I walk towards what I assume is the main club. Soon enough, I'm proven right as I enter a large room that looks to be what used to be the main warehouse floor. There's a massive dance floor in the middle. Individual bars and rows of tables line the floor. There's stripper poles erected in the corners of the dance area. Each has a scantily clad woman, much to the delight of the men, and a few women, circled around the poles. But my eyes are looking.
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