The Warehouse

During the 1960's Andy Warhol had The Factory. A Caligula of its time. Various "artists " would show up for drugs and orgies. Andy was the artist, but no one was there to see him. They were there to see each other. Instead of finding their own way, I think many new artists try to recreate history. Even if history may have been chaotic. The gala we are going to is called "The Warehouse." It might not be a direct reference to the Factory. I highly doubt it though as I gaze up at the old, brick building. I see silver balloons tied to the fire escape. Loud, ambient music blasts from the windows. The only way to get into The Warehouse is a steel door on the side of the building. We have to walk in an alley to get there. It's a narrow passage way. Luckily, it's broad daylight. Hopefully we can leave before sunset.I have to admit, I'm more concerned about the puddles. It rained recently, so there's standing water here and there. I'm trying to be careful where I step. I don't want to dirty up my suit. I have a feeling we may be overdressed for this. We approach the steel door. I make a fist, preparing to knock. I turn to Olivia. "You ready for this?"