The narrow hall is packed with people... moving, talking, touching. There are some secret people at the bar - like the guy with big black sunglasses and hair that looks like a wig - or the girl in all black leather - flat boots with lots of straps and a bikers jacket.

A woman with long blond hair leans thoughfully against the wall remembering somebody. People are smoking, breaking the new laws since it doesn't really matter anymore. One guy handed me a joint.

"It is just like old times, just like old times," my two sweet friends keep on saying.

"Let's dance..." The floor is full - and other than the older man touching my bum, people are nice to me.

I'm tired though - like I will fall sideways off of my stilettos. I'm sorry to say goodbye. I'll never see this place again - it will soon be demolished.