John sighed as he re-adjusted his Hedgespun items, making sure he didn't look too out of place. Then again, the whole freehold has frequented the place, so a tall man in a trenchcoat and scarf would be the least bizarre of their clientele. He gave his neck a few quick cracks, ignoring the cavarnous grinding sounds they made and went inside.
From the moment John enters, it reminds him of some old noir western scene from a movie. The door creaks shut as a gust of spring wind blows dust in from the sidewalk behind him causing several people who are sitting around at the bar to give him a quick glance before continuing their discussions. The ever-present bartender, Sam, stands behind the bar looking more than a little forlorn.
Not a good sigh. Jon thought as he spotted the bartender. He sighed as he made his way over to the bar and took a seat, trying his best to ignor the chatter around him while he waited for Sam.
Sam turns away to grab a shot glass before pouring a whiskey and passing it to John. Even though he wasn't exactly on speaking terms with many of the freaks that frequented his....the bar, Sam kinda liked John. Maybe it was because he caused no fuss and actually paid the bill before leaving.
"Tell me about it. My new boss is on my case. Creppy bastard too." John said as he took a sip of his whisky and felt that familiar burn. "Ah yeah, thats better. So, what's new around here?" He said. He did admit, he was interested. Then again, talking to someone without the intent of filling them with lead was a nice change of pace.
"Ah damn." John grimaced as he took another sip from his drink. "Sorry to hear. Don't pay enough attention to the news. But why? You do plenty of good around here." when your not ogling the girls that come 'sing' He added mentally. "Who bought the place anyway?"
"Some guy," Sam says with all the feeling that guy could easily be substituted for bastard. "Never met him. Instead, I've gotta put up with Little Miss Tightass, the manager he put in place."