“Excuse me,” he said, turning around. He made his way through the people without looking back.
With his empty glass in his hand, he looked at the dancers. The auditorium, a large concrete cone, was almost packed full. They had placed a wooden dance floor in the middle, with olive green metal tables and folding chairs around it. Garlands were hanging from the ceiling and trestle tables at the edge. Behind them, volunteers filled glasses. The music system blared.
Behind one of the trestles stood a young man in a white shirt and a bow tie, clearly from a wealthy family.
He juggled a shaker with a broad smile on his face. In front of his improvised bar stood well-dressed young men who cheered him on while casting their eyes towards the heavily made-up girls at the tables who, in turn, were
