Tom kneels down on the ground, his suit pant tightening at the knee as he gets level to the porcelain bathtub.

The man pours a small hill of a white powdery substance onto the tub’s edge, scrambling to mouth the excess from his thumb. He practically tears the platinum card from his wallet, eager to reach the sweet state of bliss.

Tom is snapped out of the moment as he hears a knock at his bathroom door.

Crap! She’s waiting on him for date night! How long has he been in the goddamn bathroom?