The establishment was well known bu

The establishment was well known but only, and paradoxically, within a very secretive, select and, might as well admit it, wealthy circle of…ah…clients. Situated in a once booming warehouse district not far from the waterfront, the neighbourhood now looked semi-derelict, yet to be gentrified, and that, except for those patrons who understood certain necessary dynamics, was a mystery that defied explanation- the property should have been converted to high-end apartments, flats, and slick boutiques years ago. Instead, it remained half-ominously/half-charmingly rundown, out of the way, attracting only the ‘right’ kind of attention.

I parked my bottle-green Porsche in the secure garage half a block from the rambling brick warehouse that, despite appearances, functioned as the reason and epicentre of the neighbourhood. Pocketing the keys, I wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like if the cops raided the place while I was there, perusing the stalls, ‘shopping’ for merchandise and, as always, chuckled to myself- the cops had to be in on things, there simply was no other way. No worries, dude…relax and…enjoy! I licked my lips, adjusted my suddenly tenting trousers and headed for the gaping, but well guarded, exit from the garage.