So Johnny's adapted somewhat to life on the boat - he's not sick as often as he used to be, and he's found ways to get around, from his berth to the various bridges.
He's on his way to visit a young person who was kind to him when he arrived, and he is whistling a tune, not quite skillfully, but calmly enough. His smirk is peaceful - if smirks can
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"Good afternoon." He's totally taken aback.
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"Afternoon," she replies.
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"Is this a bad time?"
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And so he finds himself at the bar, studying various bottles of what look like mystical potions. He smiles at Johnny, though his expression is distant. "Hello..."
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"Having issues with picking a drink?"
He's trying to be friendly - but it's not his forte, so, so, so sorry.
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"Damn I miss Marie-Jeanne," he mutters against his breath), he actually goes behind it and serves him a beer.
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