A dark-skinned woman in a blue dress

She's just a few seats down from you at the bar. Her hair is done up in a loose bun, and she looks like she's waiting for someone. Or, more like she's given up on waiting for someone who ditched her. Really, the lady looks a bit too done-up for this to be where she planned to spend the night, but you're not trying to deduce her whole life story, just the chances that she'll talk to you.

Figuring you have about a 65% chance of getting somewhere, you carefully slip out of your seat and move closer to her.

"You mind if I..." you ask, gesturing to the seat just to her left. She shrugs, but seems interested - if maybe only for conversation.

"Jack," you introduce yourself.

"Sol," she says, stirring her drink with one of those black straws you can't really drink through.