In the clubs that line the main streets of Capital City, one must dress a certain way and maintain a certain standard of behavior. One must also belong to a certain financial strata: it’s not cheap to get in, and it’s certainly not cheap to partake of the luxuries within.
Off the avenues and boulevards, back in the alleys and down in the basements, there are baser and cheaper pleasures to be had. You don’t have to bring a copy of your bank statement. You don’t even have to be human. You just have to be brave, or perhaps reckless.