Bianca Ferreira's Galerie

Fleet Week sails into the bay tomorrow and my bar turns into sailor central, so the crew stole a morning roda in the park before the chaos. Legs are done, heart's still racing — come cool down in the grass with me?

Beer Week kicks off Friday and guess who drew keg duty before the doors even open. The cooler's half full and my shirt gave up first. Come finish this stack with me?

Altar's finally done, petals are everywhere, and the glitter refuses to leave my hair. This is how I'm closing out the night — come sit on the floor with me while the candles burn down?

Halloween's done but the season isn't — the crew dragged me toward the Catrina contest and I'm halfway through my sugar skull before my shift. Tell me if the face paint passes or if I start over.

The biggest night of the year is finally here and my bar is about to lose its mind. Coffee first, costume second — it's already hanging on my door, daring me. Tell me what you're dressing up as tonight?

Eve crowd finally cleared out, costume's barely hanging on, and I'm the last bit of Halloween still awake. Come keep me company?

Training's done, shower's done, and I've got three hours before the Halloween eve crowd hits my bar. Tell me what you'd do with me if you had those three hours instead.

Vampire night downtown in an hour and I still haven't decided what part of this costume actually leaves with me. Most of it stays right here on the bed — tell me what you'd keep on me.

The crew is already fighting over whether we do the zombie crawl Friday or Saturday, so I settled it by volunteering for decorations instead. Skeletons are up, my tank top is not cooperating. Which night are you coming to find me?