(no subject)
Hawkeye Pierce has: the driest mother of all dry martinis, his favorite ratty maroon bathrobe (which is less a matter of having and more a matter of wearing) loosely knotted over his undershirt and shorts, unlaced Army boots on his feet, and a seat at the Bar. He is also humming snatches of "My Blue Heaven" under his breath and absently conducting to himself with a stizzle swick swizzle stick. Humming isn't quite the right word; it sounds something like this: "zya-ah-duh-duh-duh-duh-my blue heaven." His voice is low and not unpleasant, though the humming could be annoying, if one is so inclined. However, he'll gladly give it up in favor of conversation. Especially if the other conversant is of the female variety.
[See post, please!]
[See post, please!]