Excerpt:

He walked down the streets towards his little apartment, avoiding the darkened alleyways that seemed to be popping up more and more in the news these days—people getting jumped and whatnot. Though there wasn't anything like the gang problems Bedford had back in the 80s, times were still tough in B-Town, and if a man could make a cent or two just by taking it from someone who had the discipline to do real work, that was bound to happen. Unfortunately, even on a Friday night the street cars didn't run that late, nor any other public transportation, and Ricky didn't have the cash on him to hail a cab, so walking it was. He passed by a sign post, where a poster for the night's show had been pasted. Patti Stearn and the Buddie B. Orchestra. Yeah, he was part of something special. Though, wouldn't it be nice if someday a poster could say, 'Ricky Bueno and his Orchestra'? He would definitely get a girl if he could command that sort of billing. But eh, things were pretty solid where he was now. He was making easily twice under Bud Badini what he had under his previous band leader, working in one of the classiest night spots in town, with a big name like Patti Stearn. Yes, nothing to complain about there.