Chapter 172: Cloth Napkins are a Thing?

The ice in my drink clinks against the glass as my hand catches on the deep red tablecloth when I put my cloth napkin in my lap. I can't remember the last time I ate in a restaurant that had cloth napkins.

The whole place screams money. From the dim lighting illuminating the space below us from a crystal chandelier to the open glass view from the windows we're next to. Through the window the city's lights slowly trickle on as twilight turns to night. My head swims. A few quick blinks don't alleviate the problem so I pull my head away from the window and high view. Why do rich people want to be so damn high? Do they enjoy the fantasy of looking down on the peasants from high atop their castle restaurants?