Bars were not really Chuck's natural habitat. At all. They were loud, often busy, and he had a comparatively low tolerance for alcohol. He was known to claim it was an adverse reaction to neon. Either way, the result was a bit like letting a lone giraffe wander central New York; gawky and somewhat lost
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Attractive newcomer.
He raised that glass toward her with a hopeful smile, figured it was friendly.
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She probably didn't have to worry much about him.
"Who knew a tiny little place like this could have it's own bar?" he remarked.
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"Hi, Bella."
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If anyone disturbed him, well, they're in for a treat.
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He isn't always sensible, though. "One of those days?" he asked.
Well, it always seemed to work as an opener on TV.
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He ordered a PBR and offered Chuck a wave. "Dunno if I know you."
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He gave a short nervous laugh. "I'm having an off day," he joked. "Normally, you know, I would be out there... dancing and drinking and--"
"Yeah, no, not really."
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"I find it a look that works for me, sometimes," he said, tacking a smile on the end there. "Always a good opener for people."
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