The call came on a crisp Wednesday afternoon, as the important calls always tend to do. Our secretary, Taylor, answered the phone with her typical sly greeting. “Less than Zero … ” Her gum snapped as she set the phone down on the table. She turned to us, pausing for just a moment to take in our collective beauty – “Guys, it’s the big one,” she mouthed.
“Put ’em on speaker phone,” growled Lyle.
Yes, this is the call.
This IS the call.
In a little under a week, we were heading to a posh club somewhere on Woodward in Detroit. We didn’t know the exact location, but our driver Jumanji-Fab