You’re in the Club Charles having a drink. Maybe you decide to play some tunes on the jukebox. You’re choosing your songs when out of the corner of your eye you see a couple in the small alcove by the stairs engaging in a display of PDA that would make a teenager blush. We actually sat in that room once, and we’ll never do it again. We were just trying to have a conversation with a friend when a couple walked in. The man sat down in the one available chair and the girl sat in his lap and stuck her tongue so far down his throat she could probably taste his stomach acid. Meanwhile, his hand crept steadily up her skirt until we couldn’t see it anymore, and there wasn’t a whole lot of skirt. After several moments of Seven Minutes in Heaven under duress, the woman turned to us and said, “You guys feel free to do what ever you were planning to do.” Yeah, we were planning on talking, but with the floor show, who can make conversation?