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You've been stranded in Toronto with no money, no identification, and no friends. You've tried collect calls to everyone you know, but either they don't answer or won't accept the charges. You're beginning to believe that no one loves you.
You've been wandering around the streets of Toronto all day, trying to think of some way out of your predicament. No great plan has presented itself, and it's nighttime now. It's also pretty chilly out, and you only have a thin black jacket over your black trousers and red silk top. You need to think of something before you freeze to death and you're nothing but a small article in the back of the Toronto Star: "Well-dressed homeless person found frozen near harbor."
You round a corner and see a large metal sign above a door. Moving closer, you see that it's reads "Raven" and appears to be the entrance to a nightclub of some sort. Those standing around outside appear to be the leather and Goth crowd. A stiff wind blows up from the lake, and you decide that you're going to have to go inside.
Maybe you can get someone to buy you dinner. Normally, that would be against your principles, but you haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours now. Principles be damned!
You enter the club. Walking down the stairs, you see a writhing mass of bodies dancing to the music. The pounding bass beat shakes your bones, but you find that, somehow, the music is not so loud near the bar. You can actually hear yourself think here. Not that that's a good thing, since all you can think is "I'm hungry."
You sit at the bar, and luckily, the bartender ignores you. If he asked you for an order, you might be forced to admit that you had no money, and you can't imagine that a non-paying patron would be very welcome.
As you sit, looking around the club for a likely sucker, a deep, smooth voice speaks from beside you:
"Well, hello, my dear. I don't believe I have ever seen your exquisite beauty in my club before."
The voice does something to your stomach that makes it feel as if it just fell on the floor. Casually checking, you notice that it hasn't. You turn toward the speaker and are momentarily stunned.
Standing before you is a tall, dignified man, his blonde hair cut very short. In a glance, you can tell that his black suit has been expensively tailored to fit his strong physique.
You:
Say "Hello, yourself, beautiful. Want to buy me a drink?"