"I was going to concerts in the eighties. All the bands were evil if bad fashion is your barometer of malice. Of course, I dress up in green spandex and shoot people, who am I to talk?" Ollie had never really had anyone he would call a "worst enemy," at least in a personal sense. Deathstroke and Merlyn came closest, but the former was a sort of target for all the superworld to deal with, and the latter seemed to think that they were Rivals Fated to Duel for All Eternity, whereas Ollie was just under the opinion that anyone who blew up Star City deserved a projectile in the urethra.
Ollie's apartment wasn't far from the dojo. It didn't look like the place a billionaire should live. Which wasn't to say it was bad; in fact, it was in pretty good condition. It was just very boring. He held open the door for the lady--his mama had raised him right--and showed her to his place. "Welcome to the Arrow Cave."
The apartment itself wasn't bad, given that it bore none of the marks of the standard bachelor living space. It was spacious, reasonably well decorated, and there were no pizza boxes anywhere. But it still looked like it was just some guy living there.