What's a bit of wind to a manly man?

Tom was a kid from Detroit's suburbs. OK, he'd been a kid from Detroit, he thought, checking his good looks again as he crossed the marble-floored, mirror-walled hall with its greek-styled columns and large plants in golden pots. He was amused by the fakeness of it all. Plants grown in hothouses, replaced regularly. Concrete and steel bars covered in a thin layer of fake marble. More fake marble. Aluminum pots electroplated with pyrite. Strong, powerful straight guys who he'd already met in bars and clubs in other cities being... not that straight.

This was the most sought-out location in the entire city if you wanted a great view on the Park, luxurious apartments and that thing they called "connected neighbours", whatever it meant, given nobody seemed to talk to anybody else. There were very few families in this building, though. The building had clearly been thought out for single people and young couples with no dependents. In fact, he thought there were only three people over forty, none married, in the whole 50-story tower. It was hard to say for sure, since the tower was, after all, a very large place, which was exactly why he could enjoy so much anonymity and privacy. Large buildings, large cities. So much better than Mick's small town upbringing, he smiled.

Anyway, Detroit, now that was a cold place in winter. Stepping out the door, he still shuddered. Damn wet wind. He gladly stepped into the Uber and they drove away.

What was the best plan tonight... a few drinks in that posh speakeasy? A "private" party he'd been invited to by a business associate? Maybe, straight to the club? He sniggered. Clubbing was not that fun anymore, with Covid-19 blooming crazy, even in cities like his that had not outright banned it. OK, then party or drinks in a socially distanced setting was the logical choice... probably.