When the elevator doors opened, the woman's eyes narrowed in order to better take in the surroundings.  This would not be just another card game with the few women her age and by her house.  Women of suburbia retired too quick from their lives of being single and forced to share cards when "knitting" and having a book club.  Dark eyes focusing on the arriving waitresses and her curls ducking down as she avoid a direct confrontation with them.  Her hands clasped the purse to her side when she stepped forward after the other woman.<br/><br/>"A cosmopolitian please."  The words spoke of a demure nature, straining to emerge from those pleasantly full lips.  She took a strong breath into her lungs and looked up, tossing back her hair with both the momentum of her head and the digits of her hand.  Ruffling the confines a little, she allowed herself to relax.  Cynthia had come to have fun, not sulk in her own body.<br/><br/>"Make that a shot of bourbon."