[The somebody for Angela didn't show up tonight which is why the late hour finds her walking into this bar by herself, shaking the rain off her umbrella as she stands by the entrance. Her date stood her up and while she's disappointed (disappointed, not sad, there's a difference. It's his loss, really.) there's no reason why she needs to go straight home when she's already dressed up.
She dumps her umbrella in a bucket that's stationed by the door and heads toward the bar, clad in a seriously snug black backless number, looking far too fancy for these digs. But she doesn't care. All she wants is a dirty martini with extra olives.]
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She dumps her umbrella in a bucket that's stationed by the door and heads toward the bar, clad in a seriously snug black backless number, looking far too fancy for these digs. But she doesn't care. All she wants is a dirty martini with extra olives.]