So I go, my head hung, allowing Sandra to lead me by the arm, round behind the counter and into the back. Behind me I hear a murmur - disgust, amuseme...t, interest. They know. The room is more or less what I expect, a grubby little box. There isn't even a bed, or a mattress, just a chair and a curious device on one wall, like an old fashioned pillory. I turn to Sandra, but she is already lifting the upper part of the device. 'Stick your head in,' she says, 'and your hands.' I hesitate, realising. Yeah, these things he ha to be here for. He stepped around third of his bartenders. The counter was about 18 feet long and made out of walnut tree, which meant that every bartender had about 6 feet to cover per person. He shook his head. He would definitely have to find another bartender and reassign Terry to a different spot. His head automatically lowered and his shoulders hiked up, when he heard a second crash. - Sorry boss. Damn it. He exhaled a deep breath and felt rather lightheaded.. More

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