You're behing the wheel of your ferrari. You drive past the long queue along the sidewalk to the club, breaking necks as people crane their necks to stare at your flashy ride. You cruise silently to the head of the queue, and kill the engine. Checking your reflection in the rear view mirror, you put on some cool shades and lift the gullwing doors. You step out, and everyone's eyes are on you. You hand the keys to the valet and head for the entrance. The beefy bouncer who looks like he might die from eating too much steroids eyes you, and steps aside, letting you pass. Obviously you are cool enough to gain direct entry to the club. Some idiot behind in the queue shakes his fist and spews some choice swear words. He complains about having to wait 2 hours and having to tolerate people like you bypassing the queue. Well it seems like he'll have to wait another 2 hours because the bouncer goes over to throw him outta the queue and back to the end haha

You finally enter the club. Soft lounge music greets you at first. This is the place to be. Zouk? Nah too old. You are now in the club of the moment, the place to be and be seen. It seems like word has spread of your arrival, undoubtedly fueled by your million-dollar sports car and preceded by your reputation. Heads turn and appraising looks follow. You meet some gazes and return a smile, but you are not here to pick up new friends.

You chill by the bar, declining the offer by management of a private room. You pull back on the sleeve of your armani dress shirt, checking the time on your tag heuer chronograph. Your friends aren't here yet, so you signal to the bartender to bring your favourite drink

alright people, vote here on what drink to take and i'll continue the story from there:

A) Barcadi Breezer
B) Scotch, on the rocks
C) Bottle of beer
D) Glass of wine