I never knew a time when my Ma wasn't off her nut.
After my father left, after I was born- guess all that did something to her. She was a religious crazy. Did things like keep me in the house for days, readin' bible verses like it'd chase something out of me. Didn't really get the chance to make many friends, on account of that. Also on account of
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If it's not what you think, I guess that's up to you to figure out.
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Are you looking for anything like that?
[ooc: This is the nearest thing to an invitation he can manage, I think.]
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Anyway, maybe he won't be too hard to find, if one knows who to look for. He's set himself up at the bar and, every few minutes, he turns back towards the door. Just to make certain he hasn't missed the kid coming in.
There he is now--and he is a stiff, uncertain kind of kid. Funny.
He turns in his seat to face him.]
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He catches sight of Mr. Poncho the moment he turns around, blue eyes intercepting insert-color-here. No smiles, no wave or hello. Just a simple nod, as he walks toward him. ]
Hey.
[ He takes the seat next to him. ]
You wait here long?
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