03-26-2020, 11:39 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-26-2020, 11:49 PM by Ascendancy.)
I'm at the bar. Come find me, you handsome devil.
He responded to the message and looked up about the time the beer was placed before his neighbor. "It's on me," he said to the bartender. "Least I can do for another Yankee," he replied. He reached out as though to shake hands, only to realize the man was an amputee. Obviously then he felt like a right asshole and promptly retreated his own arm back to himself.
A blonde squeezed in on the other side of the American. He'd been away from the United States longer than he lived there, but even now he felt like an imposter including himself as one. Still, no point in baring his entire soul over one drink. Yet.
In the way of such things, a conversation between two people at the bar seemed to automatically include anyone in earshot. Some sort of social order allowed for eavesdropping and outright interruption in a welcomed, acceptable way. He flashed her a charming smile that won him the flutter of many a previous eyelash and spoke to them both, "It's good out there. Did you see those giant dogs walking around?"