My dad's "office"
Jazz conventions where the (mainly cigarrette) smoke was so thick you could not see with clarity from the back of the auditorium, who was on stage. And where I lived on potato chips, pretzels, and coca cola for periods up to 2 days in duration. And where the kids collected into little gangs and "explored" the neighborhoods at will, because our parents were completely absorbed. Ummm, sneaking beer.