The limo dropped us off at The Beach just before midnight. By then our ad hoc group of rebel-rousers and troubadours had been partaking hard at the watered-down libations and were ready to do some real damage. The crew consisted of about a dozen twenty-somethings with Dot Com money to burn and an apropos Viva Las Vegas attitude.
Among the throng an old man in his early 40s joined us for the adventure. Once in the club the group loosely disbanded as some sought drink, others lust and some just wanted to dance. My girlfriend was in that camp and I did my best to keep up while trying not to look too much at the ladies selling drinks in their bikinis all about us. We played for hours in this place and right upon closing the DJ suggested playing an oldie to the crowd and soon after Margaritaville came on the loud speakers. Too tired for a dance I sat at table panting with my upper lip covered in sweet Summer sweat.
It was a this point when our 40 something friend asked my girlfriend to dance and they took to the dance floor for the last bit of fun for the night. Upon their return to the table, as we collected our things to go he came over and told me
