Except that it's all mahogany and bronze and dense carpeting. Dweeb with bat-wing ears playing muzak at the baby grand. Area off on the side with a podium and loads of chairs for the reading. Which is already filling. Standing room only.
People are real excited.
I'm right on time. So I ask the guy at the register for the famous rich poet. He points to the storeroom. Warming up, he says. I knock again.