Extend the Story - Add a Room

You find a somewhat less sticky than usual curb in front of a linen shop and plunk yourself down there. After searching around a little, you find a battered styrofoam coffee cup and place it in front of you. You ruffle up your hair a little and affect a tired, vaguely desperate stare, one that you hope conveys the proper pity-inducing blend of loneliness and poverty. You mutter at passersby, "Down on my luck, spare some change, God blessya, thankya kindly, down on my luck..."

One hour later, three dollars richer, you come to the conclusion that you just aren't selling yourself right. You scrounge again, finding an old bucket that, if the label is to be believed, once contained chicken livers. You upturn it and sit yourself before it and begin pounding out a vaguely-musical-sounding bongo beat on its dirty lid. You don't have much of a musical background, and screw up much more than you make anything even halfway neat, but seem to be more successful this way. People seem more inclined to give you their pocket change if they feel you're working for it, and so you diligently pound away until the sun starts to set.

At the end of the day, you have about forty dollars in assorted loose change. Not really enough to go sightseeing with, but enough to get something to eat. Then again, if you give it another hour, the bars should be open - and the stores are only just starting to close, so you could visit them now if you'd like.

Hang around until the bars open.