The show over, a perfect point to let the evening die a natural death, but everything just grinds on to a messy conclusion. More searching for wayward limos. Lots of pirouetting around the three go-go dancers, a hopeless quest for a geometrically progressive sex session. Over to a hotel suite party, no Deborah, some mysterious guy no one knows suddenly whipping out a joint. Lots of lolling about, a hint of boredom, the dark whisper that runs like a knife through club land. Over to Warsaw at 4:00 a.m., Deborah long since gone and nothing really happening. Another night without any offers of cocaine, stupendous three-ways, or any of the other things people go out for. The No Exit omega point, but still, no one's particularly unhappy. As the great Gracie Allen once defined the matter, "It's fun having fun, even when you don't enjoy it.

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