This feels like the police and I am about to be on some CNBC special. I continue up to the 3rd floor and looking for suite 302. It had nothing on the ...door and Suite 302 may as well been written with a marker on the door. A seriously super fine girl opens the door; Nessa. She is who I was looking for. A mix between J Lo and Mika Tan. Nessa walks me into the back room which is empty except for a massage table and a table for candles and music player. She tells me it will be 80 for a half hour. I. I received a call from Kate wondering if I was going and would I like to drive down with her. I thought about it and made her a deal. She covered the cost of the trip down, she could stay at the condo in the second bedroom. Seeing that it was an 8 hour drive and she hated to drive she agreed. At this point, I need to flash back to 10 years ago. Our social circle always planned a weekend camping and canoeing trip. My wife and I loved to canoe and we were pretty good at it. We had just received. I went to my own funeral. My mother tried to justify my death by telling herself and the other mourners that I had had no business drinking at my age. I was only 18, too young to go to frat parties, too young to be dead.I sat in the back row crying over myself, but I couldn't justify my death the way my mother had. I noticed a really cute guy get up and walk out to go to the bathroom. I thought for half a second about following him and mentally kicked myself. But then I remembered that I was. Turns out some of the O’Malley fellas had recognized my wheels and how often they’d been parked at Scarlett’s place. Slim had gone for his bean shooter. I managed to kick the slime ball square in the jewels before he could squeeze off a round. From there, things got more ugly. Long and short of it was Scarlett ended up with one hell of a shiner and a fat lip so bad she’d missed two days at Starlight. I was accompanied out to my car by a couple of Slim’s boys who must have bench pressed tanks in.