Quinton Smith was a lonely man and with nothing interesting happening in his life. He was arriving at his late-night shift at the Martinis.
“Why the fuck is there no parking”.
Quinton slammed his hands on the rims of the steering wheel. It looked like it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself. Quinton parked a few blocks away from his work. Usually, he got to park right in front of the shop. He clocked in and proceeded to the checkout. Martinis was a nightclub. Although it looked like a run of the mill restaurant from the outside, a rich guy paid off the owner and turned it into a kind of nightclub where he could have parties. Today happened to be one of the days where he was in the mood for one. His first customer was a woman. She looked like in her early twenties, not that much older than Quinton himself. She had black hair reaching to her arms and had black lipstick on. She was revealing her breasts.
“I’d like a cocktail”, she said, putting extra emphasis on the cock. She was eyeing him down.