Bianca hated sitting near the door. But by the time she had gotten to the bar after training, she had to wait for a stool to open up. Some game was on the television. Why was it so damn cold in San Francisco anyway? It was almost as bad as the northeast and she had left that place to come live in California for a reason. As the door flew open she shuddered, bringing her arms in closer and leaning over the bar.
She shot the new guest a glare when he mouthed off. "The bartender won't even give a paying customer a drink when you ask like that," she muttered at him. Why were people so rude?