For a bit we just sat there like National Geographic explorers, observing the natives in their natural state. The music was loud, bass line bouncing off the walls, sending concussive vibrations through the tables, drinks shaking like that scene in Jurassic Park.
Half a dozen kids had made their way to the dance floor and moved respectably enough to the beat. Two women at a table two over from us were moving in their seats and for a brief moment the thought of asking one of them to dance flitted about in my head.
'Hell no," I said to myself, "The days of asking strange women to dance are long gone. Best to sit and sip a Guinness."
And so it went, for the duration of the night.
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