Cassandra and Stephanie hate going to Bruce's galas. At least, they hate going and staying sober. They spend ninety-nine percent of their time at the bar. That's where they see you, slamming drinks like there's no tomorrow. You immediately capture their interest.

The girls make sure they look good — which they always do, but they check anyway, just to be sure — fixing up their hair and makeup and wiping imaginary dust off their clothes before making their way over to you, their arms linked together.

"Hey, me and my girlfriend saw you from across the bar and we really dig your vibe," Stephanie says, removing her arm from Cassandra's and putting it around her waist instead.

Cass puts her hands in her pockets and slightly nods in greeting. "'Sup. Can we buy you a drink?"