It was like she didn’t even notice that I was naked. She had to have some sexual urges; it was human nature after all. But her age might have washed it all away. I’ve heard girls don’t crave it like guys do to begin with; older women even less. No wonder cave men hit them over the head and drug them to their caves. I guess it was the only way they were going to get any at the time. Left to women, we wouldn’t have populated the planet.After the door slammed shut, I headed towards the showers. I pondered the idea that a warden wanted a prisoner to go to a party with her. It made me ask myself a ton of questions. I got the impression that I wasn’t going to a party; I was going to be catering a party. Maybe she was going to make me serve food or park cars or something boring like washing dishes.I stood under the water and thought of all the scenarios and concluded, by the time I had rinsed my hair, that whatever I was going to do, it sure beat doing nothing. I could be worried for nothing. The ground plan determined, our discussion from then on was about which DJ should take precedence: Kevin Saunderson, Juan Atkins or Derrick May. Jane had read somewhere that Detroit's top club was called the Music Institute while Jacquie was sure that it had closed down. I misunderstood them and thought the sisters were discussing an actual American college of music. Our entire knowledge of Detroit and its Techno scene was based more or less entirely on the small collection of twelve-inch singles we'd amassed back in the late 1980s. None of us had followed the scene with the close attention required to know how much the musical landscape might have changed since then. We'd heard of Carl Craig, Plastikman and, of course, Jeff Mills, but we had no idea where to go or even who were most likely to still be active in the Detroit night clubs. We were adrift in a strange place without a map or compass.And this we learnt for sure when Jane, Jacquie and I ventured out just after midnight into.
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