<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d3/a0/b1/d3a0b1ddac56452a44583e33bd387f9b.jpg)</div><strong>"Which one is Rick again?"</strong>asked Alison, she had to admit to herself that the various audio engineers and lighting specialist where all a bit of a blur to her, they all gave themselves grandiose sounding titles while all wearing the same indistinguishable looking 'uniform' of dirty black jeans and matching unwashed black t-shirt. That wasn't to say they were all unappealing, Alison had rather fond memories of fashion show they'd put on in aid of one of the local children's ward. Not that Alison had seen much of the show itself but a tattooed and well muscled rigger had provided a full evenings entertainment.<br/><br/><strong>"Now have we decided on a dress code for the event? I know it's a fund raiser so everyone will be expecting it to be black tie, but I feel slightly ridiculous turning up in full evening dress when the music isn't exactly classical. Also it's hysterical seeing what some people turn up wearing when they're out of their comfort zones."</strong>Having the well heeled of NYC turn up to an event trying not to look their absolute best was both an entertaining as a spectator sport and would provide copious opportunities for bitchiness and gossip mongering, which as far as Alison was concerned was the whole point of these events.<br/><br/>Alison glanced casually over her shoulder and saw Pierre still by the bar rooted to the floor, either her suspicions about his gender preferences were correct or he was in full rabbit-in-the-headlights mode, she almost felt sorry for him. Then out of the corner of her eye she caught Ashley half staring at her, Alison gave the blonde a little smile and then refocused her attention to the conversation at the table.