Riviera

I try my best to dress up for the occasion, but I doubt the leather jacket, tight jeans, black knee-high leather boots and Rancid shirt are really standard dress for the Riveria. Then again, I'm sure they'll live, barely. I mean, so long I get my free drink we'll get along just fine. An Uber whisks me away and soon enough I find myself outside the Riveria hotel and then inside its bar. The whole thing screams 'neat' and 'corporate'. Neutral colors, and 'scribbled-on' canvases that pass for 'high-art'.

Not many people around here on a weeknight, but they'rea ll looking at me. Guess I stand out, but I get a feeling it's for all the wrong reasons. At the bar, I see a few women swooning over Tom as he serves up their drinks. When they walk off, I approach him.

"Hey there." I say.

"Hey Roxy. What can I get ya?"

"Rum on the rocks." And if somehow it's not watered down, we might just get along real good.

"Coming up."

A moment later, Tom has the drink ready for me. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

Whilst I gulp down my rum, I wonder if anyone is going to approach me.