Diva Beavers - Gentlemen's Club
Hmmm...
The name tells me most of what I want to know about the thought processes of the man running it.
I make way to the entrance, in plain view of the Neanderthal manning the door. Sauntering across the road, I straighten my jacket, adjust my cuffs. Ape Man follows my approach, his stance shifting minutely.
"I'm here to see Renberger."
He measures me up and down, assessing, studying my suit, my shoes, my face. "Would it be Lawrence Klempner?"
"That's right." I'm impressed: a bouncer able to correctly parse a sentence.
"Come this way Mr Klempner. Mr Renberger said we might see you here. And that if you turned up, to take you through." He's deferential and polite but exudes just the hint of menace that suggests all that could change were there reason.
In other words, the perfect guard.
He leads me through to the main lounge area. There's everything you'd expect: bar, low seating, rooms off, a dancer's pole and a small stage area.