Providence, Paradise Club.
Jim Manzi paid three US dollars to the receptionist and then entered the dimly lit, chaotic hall. There were no dancers performing on the stage, no sultry music playing, and not even a single customer in sight, just empty bottles and cigarette butts littering the place.
He sat at a high stool in front of the bar and signaled the bartender to pour him a drink. While the bartender was pouring his drink, he asked, "Did I come to the wrong place, buddy? The sign outside says this is a strip club; does that mean customers are supposed to strip naked themselves, climb on the stage, and shake their asses for their own entertainment?"
"The show's over, you've come too late, sir," the bartender said as he pushed a glass of drink towards Jim.
