If the waitress hadn't removed the emptied bottles promptly, the table where Don Alston and his colleagues were sitting would be full of them. The men drank beer, colorful vodka-based drinks, and pretty much anything they could get their hands on. By this point, they were so darkened that the striptease owner was rubbing his hands as he counted on what else could add to their bill.
The guests were known to him. It was an amateur racing team that sometimes came from the provinces to taste the big world. For these young people, the 'big world' was clearly a strip bar. Living in a smaller town, where almost everyone knew each other, they couldn't have fun as they wanted. The larger city gave them anonymity.
