first_pink_lady

It was official.  Rizzo was tired of the rain.  It'd been alright at first, enough of a change from the monotony of constant sunshine for her to want to raid the clothing box for the mackintosh and rain hat it had never made sense to own in Venice, California.  Then she'd ended up looking more like Elizabeth Taylor in Cat on a Hot TIn Roof, but not nearly as sexy, and more like the kitty of the title after a good chucking in the river. 

So she'd taken to haunting the Compound instead of the beach, and more often than not ended up on the covered front porch, smoking preciously rationed rolled cigarettes and watching the haggard, soaked islanders stagger up the steps for entertainment.  It didn't exactly make her look too good, but desperate times and measures and all that.  She saw someone moving towards the Compound through the torrent, and perked up slightly from where she'd been sitting with her chin in her palm, watching with interest as they got closer.