Perry diCarto was excited for tonight's poker game. He had set up his poker table in his living room and placed a metal case of chips and decks on top of it. Four chairs were neatly tucked in under the table.
Perry diCarto's apartment was exactly what you'd expect a lawyer making decent bank to be. Laminate floors, two bedrooms, a large, open concept kitchen with all the fixings, and a large balcony on which a small hot tub had been installed at some cost. He was on the third storey of three, and while the view wasn't outstanding, at the very least, it wasn't an eyesore. It looked out onto some trees and was at the back of the building. It was a balcony selected for its privacy.
The lawyer slept in the larger of the two bedrooms, which was decorated very spartanly. On each of the walls was a painting of a jazz scene in watercolours from a favorite artist of the lawyer's, and his king-sized bed had a simple black duvet covering black sheets. His wardrobe was a black armoire. Half of it was filled with his suits, the other, his casual wear.
His kitchen was stocked tonight; in his refrigerator was all manner of beers and white wine, in the freezer was a 26 of Belvedere and displayed neatly on a little side table was his other liquors, with glasses out for those who might wish them. Snacks were also available... and he would order dinner shortly.
Perry sat on the couch, watching the sports highlights and engaging in a detente with his cat, who was sphinxing on the other side of the couch and staring at him warily. 6pm was approaching, and he was excited to get started.