“How the hell are we gonna find her in this crowd?” Ronnie desperately said.
Simon could barely distinguish his brother’s words as they stepped into Danfords and were assaulted with obnoxiously loud music, music so loud it made the building throb, the walls vibrate and the floors shake. Then there was flashing lights to blind you and gyrating bodies crammed together so tightly you could barely move once you got passed the huge, unfriendly security guys at the door.
Simon couldn’t believe the transformation Danfords had gone through. Last time he had been there—granted this was several years back when he was still in high school—it had been little more than a hay barn where a few hick kids hung out to forget they were hick kids stuck in the middle of nowhere, USA with nothing to do and little hope of finding anything to make their boring lives more exciting—except trying to sneak a beer every once in a while.
Well, they didn’t have that problem anymore. Danfords was a wondrous place now, designed to entertain and make even a high school kid feel like there was more to life than a tiny town like Catalpa Valley could offer. They might still not be allowed that beer--Tuesdays at Danfords were strictly an non-alcohol night even if you were of age--, but Danfords was now a fun place to hang. The place was now sleek and polished and apparently a huge money-maker. Danfords surprisingly would not be out of place in mid-town Manhattan. Simon was not easily impressed, but he certainly was now.