Hey, Mr. Good Looking

HE SWAGGERS UP to the entrance with a smug look on his face, and with good reason. His finely tailored suit fits his chiseled body to a “T.” He notices the approving glances all around him. He knows he looks good. The jacket sleeves stop just short of a costly set of diamond-studded cuff links. His pants are impeccably creased and fall atop brilliantly shined shoes. With damsel on arm, money in pocket and skip in step, he crosses the threshold. The party has just begun.