I went into this bar called Amber in the Belltown neighborhood od Seattle just north of Downtown last weekend with a rugby mate of mine, Victor, to meet some co-workers of his. The place was out of a movie. It was a high-end meat joint with young women who were exercised, made up and obviously helped by a plastic surgeons knife. The men, who outnumbered the women a good 4 or 5 to 1, were all the young buff account executive types. They varied in their dress a little, though it was some variation of the untucked dress shirt sans tie. Also the more athletic ones were brazen enough to just wear their undershirts. One "women" asked Casey, Victor's co-worker, while he was at the bar if he had an open tab. Casey said "not for you." I haven't been in this world in years and years. I found it rather disconcerting. A whole world existing without my knowledge, a shadow universe. I was seriously creeped out. They also had an unmarked VIP section of couches that we were asked to move out of. The security guys wore suits and ties and had the ear pieces with the curly-cue plasti-coated electric cord like news anchors wear.