Nero's (Work in progress)

Rodrigo swears to this day it was all a result of us being pissed drunk. We were drunk that night, that's a fact, and most of what happened that night is still clouded by the mists of alcohol. But no matter how many times Rodrigo denies it, I know what I saw, I know what I heard, and I'm still trying to get a grasp, at least a little understanding, on the events of that fateful night.
It was a Friday, not unlike any other Friday on a college student's life. We had just finished a gruelling week of midterms, and if I remember correctly, we were just recovering from the longest most nerve wracking Calculus exam ever. I met Rodrigo outside the classroom, the look on his face told me the exam had not gone well.
-          Man, are you O.K?
-          You know I needed this grade man, they're gonna can my butt if I don't pass this course. I stayed up all night, but I just blanked. I am screwed.
So instead of encouraging him to get some rest, that he evidently needed, I did what any other twenty year old would do.
-          Wanna go the the bar, check out some babes and get wasted?
Of course he said yes.
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When we got to "Hippo's", our traditional watering hole, it was full to the brim. Some sort of celebration was going on inside. There was a crowd by the door, pushing and rising hands to see if they could get in. Tormenting us from the inside, the tantalizing sound of laughter and great music was denied to us when the bouncer, who recognized us, just shook his head and raised his shoulders implying it was out of his hands.
My friend even went up to the door and exchanged some words with the bouncer. The terms "regular", "idiot with power", "amount much to anything" were overheard in an increasing tone of voice. The discussion was broken when the bouncer pushed Rodrigo halfway into the street with an angry yell.
-          You'll never get in again you stuck up little shit.
As Rodrigo picked himself up from the floor, and dusted his jacket he looked at my dumbstruck face and in the most incredible nonchalant tone of voice muttered:
-          I don't think we are getting in tonight.
Well, that made it for "Hippo's".
We kept walking down the street as the crowds began to thin down and the night took its hold on the city.
-          Man, I really need that drink.
-          Well, we can always buy some pot and get wasted while we hear some tunes in my dorm.
-          Nope, not tonight. Let's go to Nero's.
I was left speechless; I had never been to Nero's. I had never even tried to get into Nero's, not that I could have if I had tried. The thought was so far fetched, it had never crossed my mind.
-          Why? - I managed to stutter.
-          Why not? - the blank look in my face must have been a clear indication that further reasoning was needed - Look, you know I come from a Small Town, and after today's exam, my days on the city are numbered. So this might be my last chance to experience the City to its fullest. Like I said, why not?
I could think of a hundred reasons why going to Nero's was not a good idea, the economical ones being at the top of the list. Getting in was an impossibility and I would rather save myself the embarrassment of being laughed at. So I was as surprised as Rodrigo to her myself saying:
-          - O.K. Let's go.
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Nero's was located smack in the middle of an industrial park, it was not easy to find and that furthered its reputation as the hottest and most exclusive club in town. As we wondered the run down streets the fear of potential embarrassment at the gate began to transform into fear of a very probable mugging, kidnapping or who knows what else in the hands of the dangerous looking loners walking the streets.  Twice we were stopped by beggars asking for money, and when we sent them away with a few coins they gave us extremely dirty looks. One of them went as far as to throw the change in my face. That did it.
-          Look man, we looked for it, we tried to find it, we didn't, ok?  So let's just go home, I'm tired and to tell you the truth, I'm nearly shitting my pants. This is dangerous. We shouldn't be here.
-          Just the next block, ok? I'm sure its there, Bobby told me that was the address.
-          That is what you said two blocks back. Bro, give it up. Let's just call a cab, hope the driver is not too scared to come here, and call it a night.
-          Just next block, ok?
The determination on his face was beginning to creep me out; this was not just finding girls and booze anymore. Rodrigo could not bear to fail again in the same day. No matter what I did, he would keep on looking until he dropped or some unsavoury character dropped him. I was not going to leave my friend alone in that place, at least not for the time being.
-          Ok, next block. I'm sure it must be there.
When we turned the corner, I immediately wanted to run from that place as fast as my legs would take me.  It was the dirtiest, smelliest, most dangerous looking street I had ever been in. The bulbs in the lamppost had been broken intentionally, so that darkness would not be disturbed by the troublesome light. There were about fifteen dangerous looking guys hanging around a broken down car. I swear I could see knifes and chains on their hands, but they were quick to conceal them. Just as we were about to turn tail and run, we saw a black BMW turn the corner, they drove about half a block past the gang and stopped. Two people, a man and a woman, got out, as a man dressed in a very elegant Tux, took their keys and drove away. As I looked into the couple's faces, I gasped as I recognized them. She was a soap opera starlet and he the centre forward for the city's football team. It dawned on me, we had found it, but as I turned around to tell Rodrigo, I saw him already walking ahead. He always had been a quicker thinker than me.
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As we passed in front of the men hanging by the car, I didn't even dare look at them. I just lowered my head, clenched my butt and followed Rodrigo, who was so intent on the blue lit doorframe to notice anything else. I was already planning on how to get by these men on my way back after the club denied us entry.
When we got to the door, I noticed nothing remarkable apart from the oddity of seeing a huge black man in a very expensive looking black suit standing by it. The door looked as run down as the neighbourhood and it didn't have any distinctive marks upon it, other than the blue neon light surrounding it.
The black man didn't even look at us. Rodrigo came up to him and asked him:
-          Hey there, how is the ambiance in there tonight, worth going in?
The black man looked at us and laughed, and incredibly white smile and a deep, deep laughter that seemed to go on forever.
-          You two, you two want to come in?
I was already turning back and planning to deal with getting out of the neighbourhood alive when Rodrigo said:
-          Yes, we would. Any problem there? I thought I made it clear the first time.
If the friendly bouncer at Hippo's had merely pushed Rodrigo for his smart mouth, this man was sure to kill him. I was looking for escape routes, to hell with Rodrigo, when I heard something amazing:
-          What the hell, it's a slow night. Come right in.
I didn't even move. I was a deer caught in the headlights, Rodrigo had to grab me an drag me inside. Maybe the night was turning out for better.

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The inside of the club was everything we hopped it would be and more. Plush and elegant, the decoration was scarce, glass and neon being the dominating motifs. The main feature was a huge bar stacked with hundreds, I mean thousands of different liqueurs and drinks. As I passed by I read some of the labels, there were brands and kinds I had never heard of. There were two distinct ambiances, one was relaxed and sofas and bean bags surrounded candle lit wooden coffee tables, the other one, nearer to the bar was sober and cold, aluminium and glass.
To tell the truth, we stuck out like a sore thumb in the place. I spent my first five minutes there thinking they would soon realize their mistake letting us in, and would throw us out. Most people were dressed very elegantly, in suits and cocktail dresses. And those who were not had a carefully conceived appearance, more like rock stars than slackers. I was wearing my usual white washed jeans, white T-shirt, flannel striped shirt and boots; while Rodrigo was on khakis and a light blue polo shirt, with a navy jacket. We couldn't be more ordinary looking in this extraordinary place. I hadn't felt the sensation that was creeping into my stomach, ever since I was thirteen and I went to my cousin's sweet sixteen party, that sensation of being so out of place that the question on everyone's minds must be what the hell are they doing here. Hell, I needed a drink.
I came up to the bar, took out my battered leather wallet and asked:
-          How much for a local regular beer.
The cutest bartender in the world smiled at me, shook her head and handed me a martini.
-          You're new here, aren't you? Drinks are on the house; put away that thing it only makes you stand out more.
-          How did you know I like martinis?
-          You looked as a martini man.
I just stood there because I knew I looked nothing as a martini man. She handed Rodrigo a scotch, which he gulped down in one shot. As I zipped my drink and saw two incredibly good looking girls about my age at the end of the bar, I began to think this night might not have been such a bad idea after all.