Club Phoenix presented a problem, elitist bouncers. Wayne rolled his eyes as his friends filtered into the seemingly endless line. Lenny walked straight to the front, pausing momentarily, hoping to draw his friends to him, before waddling inside like a hemoroidal duck.

Nathan was no better. He examined the line and latched himself onto the weakest ‘in’ person in the crowd to get inside.

Wayne stood alone at the end of the line with no hope, as he preferred. He would have to find a better way in on his own. He inched his way toward the bouncer and showed his ID, holding his breath.

The bouncer examined his ID before shooting him a: Why the Hell should I let ‘you’ in? look.

“Mr. Tisdale!” Angela Copeland, his favorite student shouted, spotting him before disappearing inside the club. “See you inside!”

Wayne snorted reflexively.

The bouncer scanned him up and down. “Anybody with that sorta snort should be inside, bra.”

“I’m not on drugs.”

“Right,” he said. “But she does need you, doesn’t she?”