"Bloody old man. Why couldn't he let me just stay in my room, watch shows, and play video games? Why must I go out? Meet girls he said. It'll be fun. You'll enjoy yourself. What a load of crap. I have to spend a bunch of money on my drink, and then buy her, or them, at least one. Grr... Stupid old foggy."
"Hey, sorry, are you going to buy something? I've been waiting behind you for five minutes now, and you look like you don't know why you're here."
"Huh?" He turns around and glances at the girl that complained. She's wearing a beige office suit with a skirt instead of trousers, and shiny beige shoes where you could see your reflection on them. "I know why I'm here. It's to buy you a drink. What's your name and what would you like?"
She seems to be taken aback by this sudden change. She looks at her assistant, who doesn't reciprocate. "I'm Fiona, and get me a strong beer."
"Gotcha." He reshuffles his head and goes eye to eye with the bartender. "Two of your strongest beers, please."
"Coming up."
"So, how was work, Fiona?" he says as he changes his head's direction once more.
"You know, tiring, busy. Like work."
"Do you like it?"
"Sometimes I don't, but most of the time I do."
"Would you change your profession?"
"No. It's what I was made to do. I might change my employer, not the job, though."
"What do you do?"
"PR."
"Sounds busy alright."
"What about you?
"I'm..."
"Here you go, mate. That'll be 9 quid."
"...looking for something at the moment," he says as he taps his card on the device, then takes a pint and gives it to her. "How about we go to a table? That one's for two."
"The one in the corner? Sure. Let's go."
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