Vincent woke up with a jerking motion and let out a couple coughs. He sat up from a most uncomfortable cot and looked around a small cell. How the hell did he get in here? He dusted off his $1300 suit that he was wearing and inspected it for any serious damage that couldn't be repaired. He found that the left side of it had torn at the seam. He then recalled the events of his horrid date. First, he had shown up fifteen minutes late because his clock was slow. Next, the waiter served them the wrong food and when he was corrected served them poorly made food. The whole conversation between them was the most uncomfortable experience. She was clearly from a very high class family and had a very privileged life. Vince had to earn the suit he was wearing. Finally that night, his car broke down, and she would let him take the limo she came in because she didn't want to waste time dropping him off. As a result he had to walk the fifteen miles home because he didn't have his phone to call the tow and a friend to drive him home, not that he even made it.
Wherever he was, it was old, and really well built. He came over to inspect the barred cell door that he would need to go through to get out. Then he heard a woman's voice calling for help. "You aren't alone, not that I'm in any position to help." He then muttered to himself. "Looks like my luck's gone to hell again."
He kicked the door and it made a most unpleasant noise that he immediately regretted.