Sara let out a low whistle. “Swanky ass place. Maybe a bit stuffy. But hey the alcohol is flowing!” A waiter passed her carrying a tray of Champaign flutes, Sara swiped one and took a sip. “Course if alcohol ain’t quite your speed, I’ve got plenty of other stuff you can try.” She lifted her black purse-- small but filled to the brim with baggies and tables of unmentionables. Sara’s goal was to empty it out and by the end of the night have a nice wad of cash to carry out.















